






Pass uZj. 

Book____ 

Coipglrt’N°J^_ 


COEHHGHT deposit. 











































/ 





























































I 








* 






<* i i 

f 



























































« 





















They Embark in Hawkeye's Canoe. 



Deerslayer and his Dying Enemy 

































-r iA 

v. ^ 


^UbRAKYoTcONG r ess 

i 1 wo Cooles rtecojv-ja 

I OCT 3 W8 

i/t >uri <>•* t.xu'i 

f 

Q— AXc* Div>i 
£OKf d. 

i_— ■ «•' ■~* — ' ■’ ■ »'• wpj wm r . 


Copyright, 1908, by 
The John C. Winston Co. 


INTRODUCTION 


T HE Leatherstocking Tales have been more 
widely read than any other stories by an 
American author. They have given enjoy- 
ment to three generations of people, fathers, sons 
and grandsons, not only in America, but wherever 
the English language is read; they have given to 
the civilized world its first real knowledge of the 
life and traits of the American Indian; and they 
have drawn a picture of an age that has forever 
passed away, and a land that is now very different 
from that in which the scenes of these stories were 
laid. 

A need has been felt by many readers of such 
a re-writing of these famous stories as would en- 
able them t© be understood by any boy of twelve. 
With this in view, we have told the substance of 
each story in simple words, endeavoring as far as 
possible to keep the peculiar style of the author, 
which has not been an easy task. 

The boy who at twelve reads these stories, and 
becomes familiar with them will at fifteen or six- 
teen enjoy them all the more because of his early 
acquaintance with their general plan. 

( 3 ) 











/ 








































































































■ 





























CONTENTS 


The Deerslayer 9 

A Story of Hunters and Indians 

The Last of the Mohicans 58 

A Tale of Indian Adventure 

The Pathfinder 117 

A Tale of the Thousand Islands 

T~ Pioneers 205 

A Tale of the New York Forests 

The Prairie 255 

A Tale of the West 






THE DEERSLAYER 


A STORY OF HUNTERS AND INDIANS 

M ANY years ago, when these United States 
were colonies of England, there lived on 
the shores of Otsego Lake, some sixty 
miles west of the Hudson River, a trapper and 
hunter whose name was Tom Hutter. 

I might say he lived in the lake instead of on its 
shores; for his house was built on piles in the lake 
and, as it was entirely surrounded by water, and 
hard to get at, the hunters and soldiers thereabouts 
called it “ Muskrat Castle. ” Besides the castle, 
Tom Hutter had also a floating house — or rather 
a house built in a scow — which could be pushed 
or rowed or towed to any part of the lake he de- 
sired, according as he wished to be near his traps 
or hidden from sight in the thick tree growth along 
the shores. This house-boat was generally called 
the “Ark.” 

Tom Hutter had two daughters; one was 
twenty and beautiful; the other was sixteen and 
“not just right in her head.” Tom was very fond 
of his daughters, and very watchful for their safety 
in this land of Indians and dangers. 

Into this beautiful region in which lies Lake 
Otsego, and in which lived Tom Hutter and his 
daughters, Judith and Hetty, there came, one fine 
(9) 


10 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


June day, two hunters. One was about twenty- 
six, handsome, stalwart, careless, reckless, and 
unscrupulous. His name was Harry March, 
nicknamed, because of his heedlessness and quick- 
ness, “Hurry.” The other was a brown and 
sinewy young fellow of twenty-one; his name was 
Nathaniel, or “Natty,” Bumpo. He had been 
brought up among the Delaware Indians, and was 
called by them, because of his skill as a hunter, 
“ Deerslayer. ” He was strong, gentle, true- 
hearted, fearless, and cool, and as honest as the 
day is long. 

Therfc were rumors of war between the French 
of Canada and the English of the colonies; this 
meant that the Indians would take sides either 
with the French or the English. The government 
of the colonies paid money for Indian scalps, for 
every scalp was a proof that an Indian had been 
killed; and, as the French Indians, or Iroquois, 
were known to be camping about the lake, Hurry 
and Tom Hutter determined to steal out by night, 
surprise the Iroquois, and make some money by 
the sale of their scalps. The Deerslayer would not 
agree to this; he was too noble to take part in such 
mean business; he did not object to fighting 
Indians in war, but he was opposed to stealing on 
sleeping Indians and murdering them for gain; 
for women and children, as well as warriors, were 
counted fair game by the scalp-hunters. So, that 
night, Hurry and Tom started out on their expedi- 
tion, while Deerslayer, though he accompanied 
them, refused to join in their “ business. ” Instead, 


THE DEERSLAYER 


ii 


he held the canoe away from the shore, to be ready 
to help the men should they get into trouble — 
which they did speedily. 

For, just as they were at their horrid work, they 
were surprised, overpowered, and captured by the 
Indians, and Deerslayer, when he tried to help 
them, found he was but one against a host. 

So he acted upon Tom Hutter’s hint to get away 
at once and defend his daughters in the ark, as he 
could do the prisoners no good. 

At once he paddled off toward the ark, having 
first taken away the Indian canoes so that these 
could not be used to approach the scow, and 
hurried to the daughters of the trapper with the 
news of the disaster that had fallen upon their 
father. 

Deerslayer then commenced a brief but clear 
account of all that happened during the night, in 
no manner concealing what had befallen his two 
companions, or his own opinion of what might 
prove to be the result. The girls listened with the 
closest attention, but, to the surprise of Deerslayer, 
Judith seemed the most distressed, Hetty listening 
eagerly, but appearing to brood over the facts in 
melancholy silence rather than showing any out- 
ward signs of feeling. The agitation of Judith, 
the young man thought was due to the interest she 
felt in Hurry quite as much as to her love of her 
father, while Hetty’s apparent indifference was 
ascribed to that mental darkness which, in a 
measure clouded her mind, and which possibly 
kept her from foreseeing all the results which might 


12 


LEATHERSTOCKING ALES 


come. Little was said, however, b either, Judith 
and her sister busying themselves in making ready 
for the morning meal. The mea was nearly 
ended before a syllable was uttered then, how- 
ever, Judith spoke in the quick and harried man- 
ner in which feeling breaks through self-control 
after self-control has become more pa nful than 
even the showing of fee, 

“You have been fighting the savagi , Deer- 
slayer, singly and by yourself/’ she said. “In 
your wish to take care of us — of Hetty — of me, 
perhaps, you’ve fought the enemy brave* T % with 
no eye to encourage your deeds or to witne: ' your 
fall had it pleased heaven to suffer you to pc tsh!” 

“I’ve fou’t, Judith; yes I have fou’t the i ny, 
and that, too, for the first time in my life. These 
things must be, and they bring with ’em a n Ted 
feelin’ of sorrow and triumph. Human n. ar’ 
is a fightin’ natur’, I suppose, as all nations kh ; m 
battle, and we must be true to our rights and gifts. 
What has yet been done is no great matter; but 
should Chingachgook come to the rock this 
evening, as is agreed atween us, and I get him off 
it unbeknown to the savages, then look for some- 
thing like warfare.” 

“Who is this Chingachgook? from what place 
does he come, and why does he come here." 

“Chingachgook is a Mohican by blood, living 
with the Delawares by iisage, as is the case with 
most of his tribe, which has long been broken up 
by the increase of our white people. He is of the 
family of the great chiefs; Uncas, his father 


£ DEERSLAYER 


l 3 


having been the considerablest warrior and 
adviser of his j iople. Well, this war having com- 
menced in ’a" iest, the Delaware and I fixed an 
app’intment ■ {) meet this evening at sunset at the 
big rock at 'he foot of this very lake, intending to 
come out on j our first warlike expedition ag’in the 
Mingos. Rut, Judith, do you know the ar’nd on 
which yorir father and Hurry went ag’in the 
savages?” '<** ' 

“I do? f and a cruel errand it was! But what 
will you have ? Men will be men, and some even 
that boast of their gold and silver, and can carry 
the kin *s commission in their pockets, are guilty 
of ec il cruelty.” Judith’s eyes again flashed, 
but b y a desperate struggle she resumed her calm- 
ness" CjP manner. 

“We must try — Chingachgook and I — we must 
try f 1 see what we can do to get Hurry and your 
father free; for the Mingos will no doubt hover 
abolit this lake some days, in order to make the 
most of their success.” 

“You think this Delaware can be depended on, 
Deerslayer?” demanded the girl, thoughtfully. 

“As much as I can myself. You say you do 
not suspect me , Judith ?” 

“Tou!” taking his hand again, and pressing it 
between her own with a warmth that might have 
awakened the vanity of one less simple-minded 
and more disposed to dwell on his own good 
qualities. “I would as soon suspect a brother! 
I have known you but a day, Deerslayer, but it 
has awakened the confidence of a year. Your 


n 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


name, however, is not unknown to me; for the 
officers of the garrisons frequently speak of the 
lessons you have given them in hunting, and all 
proclaim your honesty. Your friend Chingach- 
gook, as you call him. — What is the English of his 
Indian name ?” 

“ ‘Big Sarpent/ so called for his wisdom and 
cunning. Uncas is his ra’al name, all his family 
being called Uncas, until they get a title which has 
been ’arned by deeds.” 

“If he has all this wisdom, we may expect a 
useful friend in him, unless his own business in 
this part of the country should prevent him from 
serving us.” 

“I see no great harm in telling you his ar’nd, 
a’ter all; and, as you may find means to help us, 
I will let you and Hetty into the whole matter, 
trusting that you’ll keep the secret as if it was your 
own. You must know that Chingachgook is a 
handsome Injin, and that there is a chief that has 
a daughter called Wah-ta!-Wah, which in the 
English tongue means Hist-oh!-Hist, the rarest 
gal among the Delawares. Well, Chingachgook, 
among others, took a fancy to Wah-ta!-Wah and 
Wah-ta!-Wah took a fancy to him. But a sartain 
Briarthorn, as we call him in English, took it most 
to heart, and we mistrust him of having a hand in 
all that followed. Hist-oh!-Hist went with her 
father and mother two moons ago to fish for 
salmon on the western streams, and while thus 
busy the gal vanished. For several weeks we 
could get no tidings of her; but here, ten days 


THE DEERSLAYER 


*5 


since, a runner that came through the Delaware 
country, brought us a message, by which we Tarn 
that Hist was stolen from her people — we think, 
but do not know it, by Briarthorn’s tricks — and 
that she was now with the inimy, who had adopted 
her and wanted her to marry a young Mingo. 
The message said that the party intended to hunt 
and forage through this region for a month or two 
afore it went back into the Canadas, and that if 
we could contrive to get on a scent in this quarter, 
something might turn up that would lead to our 
getting the maiden off. ” 

“ And how does that concern you , Deerslayer ?” 
demanded Judith, a little anxiously. 

“It consarns me as all things that touches a 
fri’nd consarns a fri’nd. Em' here as Chingach- 
gook’s aid and helper; and if we can get the 
young maiden he likes back ag’in, it will giv.e me 
almost as much pleasure as if I had got back my 
own sweetheart . 99 

“And where, then, is your sweetheart, Deer- 
slayer ?” 

“She’s in the forest, Judith, hanging from the 
boughs of the trees, — in a soft rain — in the dew on 
the open grass — the clouds that float about in the 
blue heavens — the birds that sing in the woods — 
the sweet springs where I slake my thirst — and in 
all the other glorious gifts that come from God’s 
providence!” 

“You mean that as yet you’ve never loved a 
woman, but love best your haunts and your own 
manner of life ?” 


16 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“That’s it — that’s just it. I am white — have a 
white heart, and can’t, in reason, love a red- 
skinned maiden, who must have a redskin heart 
and feelin’s. No, no; I’m sound enough in them 
partic’lars, and hope to remain so — at least till 
this war is over. I find my time too much taken 
up with Chingachgook’s affair to wish to have one 
of my own on my hands afore that is settled.” 

Deerslayer kept his appointment and met his 
friend, the Mohican, at the place appointed. Then 
they went back to the ark for a consultation with 
Judith, but while there Hetty slipped away from 
them, and, paddling off in a canoe, started on 
an effort to save her father from the Iroquois. 
Judith and Deerslayer were greatly disturbed over 
this, but the night was dark, and Hetty had so 
completely escaped them that they could not 
pursue her. They found the canoe, however, 
where she had left it. 

Judith occupied a solitary bed that night, bedew- 
ing the pillow with her tears, as she thought of the 
innocent and hitherto neglected creature who had 
been her companion from childhood. Deerslayer 
and the Delaware took their rest in the ark, where 
we shall leave them enjoying the deep sleep of the 
honest, the healthful, and fearless, to return to the 
girl in the midst of the forest. 

Hetty made a bed of leaves in the forest, and 
next morning walked straight to the Indian 
encampment. 

While making her way slowly through the 
bushes, the girl suddenly found her steps arrested 


THE DEERSLAYER 


*7 

by a human hand, that was laid lightly on her 
shoulder. 

“ Where go ?” said a soft female voice, speaking 
hurriedly and in concern. “ Indian — red man — 
savage — wicked warrior — that-a-way. ” 

This unexpected greeting did not alarm the girl. 
It took her a little by surprise, it is true, but she 
was in a measure prepared for such a meeting; 
and the creature who stopped her was as little 
likely to excite terror as any who ever appeared in 
the guise of an Indian. It was a girl not much 
older than herself, whose smile was as sunny as 
Judith’s in her brightest moments, whose voice 
was melody itself. 

She was dressed in a calico mantle that entirely 
covered all the upper part of her person, while a 
short petticoat of blue cloth edged with gold lace, 
that fell no lower than her knees, leggings of the 
same, and moccasins of deerskin, completed her 
clothing. Her hair fell in long,, dark braids down 
her shoulders and back, and was parted above a 
low, smooth forehead in a way to soften the ex- 
pression of eyes that were full of archness and 
natural feeling. Her face was oval, with delicate 
features; the teeth were even and white; while the 
mouth expressed a melancholy tenderness. Her 
voice was soft as the sighing of the night air, and 
had obtained for her the name of Wah-ta!-Wah; 
which, rendered into English, means Hist-oh!- 
Hist. 

In a word, this was the beloved of Chingach- 
gook, who, having succeeded in lulling their sus- 


2 


1 8 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


picions, was permitted to wander around the 
encampment of her captors. 

“Where go ?” repeated Wah-ta!-Wah, returning 
the smile of Hetty, in her own gentle, win- 
ning manner; “wicked warrior that-a-way — good 
warrior far off. ” 

“What’s your name?” asked Hetty, with the 
simplicity of a child. 

“ Wah-ta!-Wah. I no Mingo — good Delaware — 
Yengeese* friend. Mingo cruel, and love scalp 
for blood — Delaware love him for honor. Come 
here, where no eyes. ” 

Wah-ta!-Wah now led her companion toward 
the lake, descending the bank so as to place its 
overhanging trees and bushes between them and 
any probable observers; nor did she stop until 
they were both seated, side by side, on a fallen log, 
one end of which actually lay buried in the water. 

“ Why you come for ?” the young Indian eagerly 
inquired; “ where you come from ?” 

Hetty told her tale in her own simple and truth- 
loving manner. She explained the situation of her 
father, and stated her desire to serve him, and, if 
possible, to obtain his release. 

“Why your father come to Mingo camp in 
night ?” asked the Indian girl, with a directness, 
which, if not borrowed from the other, partook 
largely of its sincerity. “He know it war time, 
and he no boy — he no want beard — no want to be 
told Iroquois carry tomahawk, and knife, and 

*“ Yengeese” is the word “ English” as spoken by Indians. 
Another word of the same meaning was “Yankees/* 


THE DEERSLAYER 


19 


rifle. Why he come night time, seize me by hair, 
and try to scalp Delaware girl ?” 

“You!” said Hetty, almost sickening with 
horror; “did he seize you — did he try to scalp 
you. ” 

“ Why no ? Delaware scalp sell for much as 
Mingo scalp. Governor no tell difference. 
Wicked t’ing for paleface to scalp. No his gifts, 
as the good Deerslayer always tell me.” 

“And do you know the Deerslayer?” said 
Hetty, coloring with delight and surprise, for- 
getting her regrets at the moment in this new 
feeling. “ I know him, too. He is now in the ark, 
with Judith and a Delaware who is called the Big 
Serpent. A bold and handsome warrior is this 
Serpent, too!” 

Spite of the rich, deep color that nature had 
bestowed on the Indian beauty, the telltale blood 
deepened on her cheeks, until the blush gave new 
brightness and intelligence to her jet-black eyes. 
Raising a finger in an attitude of warning, she 
dropped her voice, already so soft and sweet, nearly 
to a whisper, as she went on in her words. 

“Chingachgook!” returned the Delaware girl, 
sighing out the harsh name in sounds so softly 
guttural as to cause it to reach the ear in melody. 
“ His father, Uncas — great chief of the Mohicans. 
You know Serpent ?” 

“He joined us last evening, and was in the ark 
with me for two or three hours before I left it, 
Hist.” Hetty could not pronounce the Indian 
name of her new friend, but having heard Deer- 


20 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


slayer speak of her in this familiar way, she 
used it. 

“ You good,” whispered the young Indian; 
“you good, I know; it’s so long since Hist have a 
friend — a sister — anybody to speak her heart to! 
You Hist friend; do n’t I say trut’ ?” 

“I never had a friend,” answered Hetty, return- 
ing the warm embrace with unfeigned earnestness; 
“Eve a sister, but no friend. Judith loves me, 
and I love Judith; but that’s natural, and as we 
are taught in the Bible; but I should like to have 
a friend. I’ll be your friend with all my heart. 

“Deerslayer and Chingachgook great friend, 
and no the same color; Hist and — what your 
name, pretty paleface ?” 

“ I am called Hetty, though when they spell the 
name in the Bible, they always spell it Esther,” 
and after this, at the suggestion of Hist, the girls 
arose and openly approached the camp. 

“ May be Chingachgook get off Hurry and fader, 
as well as Hist, if let him have his way,” whispered 
Wah-ta!-Wah to her companion, in a confiding, 
flattering way, just as they got near enough to the 
encampment to hear the voices of several women 
who seemed to be at work in the usual toils of 
their class. “T’ink of dat, Hetty, and put two, 
twenty finger on mouth. No get friends free 
without Serpent to do it.” 

As the two girls came near the encampment, 
Hetty uttered a slight exclamation on catching 
sight of her father. He was seated on the ground 
with his back to a tree, and Hurry stood near him. 


THE DEERSLAYER 


21 


indolently whittling a twig. Apparently they were 
as much at liberty as any of the others in or about 
the camp; and one unaccustomed to Indian 
usages would have mistaken them for visitors 
instead of supposing them to be captives. Hetty 
merely drew near and stood at her father’s side 
without speaking. The old man showed neither 
alarm nor surprise at her sudden appearance. In 
these particulars he had caught the calm manner 
of the Indians, well knowing that there was no 
more certain mode of securing their respect than 
by imitating their self-command. Nor did the 
savages themselves betray the least sign of surprise 
at this sudden appearance of a stranger among 
them. Still, a few warriors gathered, and it was 
evident by the manner in which they glanced at 
Hetty as they talked together that they were 
speaking of her, and of her unlooked-for appear- 
ance. 

Hutter was inwardly much moved by the con- 
duct of Hetty, though he showed so much indif- 
ference of manner. He recollected her gentle 
appeal to him before he left the ark, and mis- 
fortune rendered that of weight which might have 
been forgotten if he had succeeded. Then he 
knew the simple, single-hearted fidelity of his 
child, and understood why she had come, and the 
total disregard of self that reigned in all her 
acts. 

“This is not well, Hetty,” he said, thinking for 
the moment of the harm that might come to the 
girl herself more than any other evil. “These are 


22 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


fierce Iroquois, and are as little apt to forget an 
injury as a favor. ” 

“Tell me, father,” returned the girl, looking 
furtively about her, as if fearful of being over- 
heard, “did God let you do the cruel errand on 
which you came ? I want much to know this, 
that I may speak to the Indians plainly if He did 
not. How was it, father ? neither you nor Hurry 
seems to have anything that looks like scalps. ” 

“If that will set your mind at peace, child, I can 
answer you, no. I had caught the young creatur’ 
who came here with you, but her screeches soon 
brought down upon me a troop of the wild-cats 
that was too much for any single Christian to 
withstand..” 

“Thank you for that, father! Now I can speak 
boldly to the Iroquois. I hope Hurry, too, has 
not been able to harm any of the Indians ?” 

“Why, as to that matter, Hetty,” returned her 
father “you’ve put it pretty much in the natyve 
character of the truth. Hurry has not been able , 
and that is the long and short of it. 

So, with Hist as companion and interpreter, the 
simple-minded Hetty, bent on doing good, went 
among the Indians with her Bible, and talked her 
simple religion, and spoke the Golden Rule, to 
these red men of the forest. 

The Indians could not see why they should use 
the Golden Rule toward their white prisoners, who 
certainly had not used it toward the Indian. But 
they did not interfere with Hetty or Hist, and 
when the Indian girl, leaving Hetty in the camp, 


THE DEERSLAYER 


23 


went to talk to Tom Hutter and Hurry of buying 
their freedom, the Indians listened to Hetty’s 
reading from the Bible, and finally, putting her on 
a raft, towed her to a point opposite the castle, and 
then had an Indian boy row her across. 

When she was across, and Deerslayer had 
heard her story, the hunter was not ready to 
believe all she told him of the peaceable feelings of 
the Iroquois. He questioned the Indian boy, and 
learned that it was the intention of his tribe to take 
their prisoners with them back to their home lodges 
for torture or for death. 

Now, Deerslayer, who, with Judith, had been 
hunting through an old sea-chest of Tom Hutter’s, 
proposed to the Indian boy that he go back to 
camp and offer as ransom for the two white 
prisoners two fine ivory elephants, belonging to a 
splendid set of chessmen, which the searchers had 
discovered in the old trunk. 

The Indian boy was sent back to the Iroquois 
camp with the proposition of ransom. 

After thinking carefully and placing the whole 
matter fairly before them, the two young beginners 
in the art of forest warfare settled down into the 
opinion that the ark offered the only available 
means of safety. This decision was no sooner 
come to than it was given to Judith. The girl had 
no serious objection to make, and all four set about 
the measures necessary to carrying out the plan. 

The reader will readily understand that Floating 
Tom’s worldly goods were of no great amount. 
A couple of beds, some clothing, the arms and 


24 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


ammunition, a few articles for cooking, with the 
mysterious but half-examined chest, formed the 
principal items. These were all soon removed, 
the ark having been hauled on the eastern side of 
the building, so that the transfer could be made 
without being seen from the shore. It was thought 
unnecessary to disturb the heavier and coarser 
articles of furniture, as they were not needed in the 
ark, and were of but little value in themselves. As 
great caution was necessary in removing the 
different objects, most of which were passed out 
of a window with a view to hide what was going 
on, it needed two or three hours before the work 
was finished. By the end of that time a raft made 
its appearance, moving from the shore. 

Deerslayer immediately took up the spy-glass, 
by the aid of which he saw that two warriors were 
on it, though they appeared to be unarmed. The 
raft moved very slowly; and this was one of the 
great advantages of the scow in any future meeting 
between them; the movements of the scow being 
comparatively swift and light. As there was time 
to make preparation to receive the two dangerous 
visitors, everything was ready for them long before 
they had got near enough to be hailed. The Ser- 
pent and the girls retired into the building, where 
the former stood near the door, well provided with 
rifles, while Judith watched the meeting without, 
through a loop. As for Deerslayer, he had brought 
a stool to the edge of the platform, at the point 
toward which the raft was advancing, and taken his 
seat, with his rifle leaningcarelessly between his legs. 


THE DEERSLAYER 


25 


When the heavy-moving craft was within fifty 
feet of him, Deerslayer hailed the Hurons, direct- 
ing them to cease rowing, it not being his purpose 
to permit them to land. Obedience, of course, 
was necessary, and the two grim-looking warriors 
instantly quitted their seats, though the raft con- 
tinued slowly to approach, until it had driven in 
much nearer to the platform. 

“Are ye chiefs ?” demanded Deerslayer, with 
dignity. “Are ye chiefs? — or have the Mingos 
sent me warriors without names on such an ar’nd ? 
If so, the sooner ye go back, the sooner the one will 
be likely to come that a warrior can talk with.” 

“Hugh!” exclaimed the elder of the two on the 
raft, rolling his glowing eyes over the different 
objects that were visible in and about the castle, 
with a keenness that showed how little escaped 
him. “My brother is very proud, but Rivenoak” 
(we use the literal translation of the term, writing 
as we do in English) “is a name to make a Dela- 
ware turn pale.” 

“That’s true, or it’s a lie, Rivenoak, as it may 
be; but I am not likely to turn pale, seeing that I 
was born pale. What’s your ar’nd ?” 

“ My young paleface warrior — he has got a 
name — how do the chiefs call him ?” 

Deerslayer hesitated a moment, and a gleam of 
pride and human weakness came over him. He 
smiled, muttered between his teeth, and then, 
looking up proudly, he said: 

“Mingo, like all who are young and actyve, 
I’ve been known by different names at different 


26 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


times. One of your warriors, whose spirit started 
for the happy grounds of your people as lately as 
yesterday morning, thought I desarved to be 
known by the name of Hawkeye; and this because 
my sight happened to be quicker than his own, 
when it got to be life or death atween us. ” 

The two Iroquois spoke to each other in low 
terms, and both drew near the end of the raft that 
was closest to the platform. 

“My brother, Hawkeye, has sent a message to 
the Hurons,” resumed Rivenoak, “and it has 
made their hearts very glad. They hear he has 
images of beasts with two tails! Will he show 
them to his friends ?” 

“Inimies would be truer,” returned Deerslayer; 
“but sound isn’t sense, and does little harm. 
Here is one of the images; I toss it to you under 
faith of treaties. If it’s not returned, the rifle will 
settle the p’int atween us.” 

The Iroquois seemed to agree in the conditions, 
and Deerslayer arose and prepared to toss one of 
the elephants to the raft, both parties using all the 
care that was necessary to prevent its loss. The 
little piece of ivory was soon successfully passed 
over from one hand to the other. For a few 
minutes the old warriors apparently lost all 
thought of their situation in the intense gaze they 
gave to material so fine, work so highly wrought 
and an animal so extraordinary. Nor did these 
children of the forest mistake the little castle on 
the back of the elephant for a part of the animal. 
They were familiar with horses and oxen, and had 


THE DEERSLAYER 


27 


seen towers in the Canadas, and found nothing 
surprising in creatures of burden. Still, they sup- 
posed the carving meant to represent that the 
animal they saw was of a strength sufficient to 
carry a fort on its back; a circumstance that in no 
degree lessened their wonder. 

“Has my paleface brother any more such 
beasts ?” at last the senior of the Iroquois asked, 
as if making a request. 

“There’s more where them came from, Mingo,” 
was the answer; “one is enough, however, to buy 
off fifty scalps. ” 

“Why should Rivenoak and his brother leave 
any cloud between them ?” the Indian said. 
“They are both wise, both brave, and both gen- 
erous; they ought to part friends. One beast 
shall be the price of one prisoner.” 

“And, Mingo,” answered the Deerslayer, deter- 
mined to clinch the bargain if possible by a little 
extra liberality, “you’ll see that a paleface knows 
how to pay a full price when he trades with an 
open heart and an open hand. Keep the beast 
you have. Show it to your chiefs. When you 
bring us our fri’nds two more shall be added to it — 
and” — hesitating a moment in doubt of the wis- 
dom of so great a gift, then deciding in its favor — 
“and, if we see them afore the sun sets, we may 
find a fourth to make up an even number.” 

This settled the matter. Every gleam of dis- 
content vanished from the dark countenance of the 
Iroquois, and he smiled as graciously, if not as 
sweetly as Judith Hutter herself. The piece 


28 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


already in his hand was again examined, and a 
word of pleasure showed how much he was pleased 
with this unexpected end of the affair. 

After repeating the terms of agreement, and 
professing to understand them, the two Indians 
finally took their departure, moving slowly toward 
the shore. 

The bargain was carried out. Before night 
Hurry and Tom Hutter were returned to the 
castle, being brought, bound, across the lake upon 
the raft, guarded by two of the Mingos. The 
former prisoners were to climb from the raft to the 
castle, and the Iroquois were richer by four ivory 
chessmen. But that very evening Deerslayer 
found before the castle the Iroquois “ declaration 
of war” — a sort of little fagot, composed of a 
dozen sticks bound tightly together with a deer- 
skin thong. March seized it eagerly, and holding 
it close to a blazing knot of pine that lay on the 
hearth, and which gave out all the light there was 
in the room, ascertained that the ends of the sev- 
eral sticks had b£en dipped in blood. 

But for all that, Chingachgook, the Serpent, and 
his friend, Deerslayer, resolved to go upon the 
business that had brought them there, — the rescue 
of Hist, the Indian girl, from the Iroquois. 

That night the two comrades set out upon their 
perilous venture. They succeeded, but as the 
Serpent leaped into the canoe with Hist in his 
arms, Deerslayer was not so fortunate, for he was 
taken prisoner by the Indians just as he was 
pushing out the canoe. 


THE DEERSLAYER 


29 


To quit the lake and lead their new captive 
to the fire the Indians needed only another 
minute. 

When Deerslayer reached the fire he found him- 
self surrounded by no less than eight grim savages, 
among whom was his old acquaintance Rivenoak. 
As soon as the latter caught a glimpse of the 
captive’s countenance, he spoke apart to his com- 
panions, and a low but general exclamation of 
pleasure and surprise escaped them. 

The arms of Deerslayer were not tied, and he 
was left the free use of his hands, his knife having 
been first removed. The only plan that was taken 
to secure his person was an untiring watchfulness, 
and a strong rope of bark that passed from ankle 
to ankle, not so much to prevent his walking as to 
place an obstacle in the way of his attempting to 
escaped by any sudden leap. Even this extra pro- 
vision against flight was not made until the captive 
had been brought to the light and his character 
ascertained. It was, in fact, a compliment to his 
daring, and he felt proud of the honor. 

Then there followed the usual scene when 
Indians capture a brave prisoner. First, the 
squaws tried to anger him by insults, taunts, and 
gibes; but Deerslayer did not notice them. Next, 
Rivenoak, the chief, tried by flattery and words of 
praise, and then by threats and promises of all the 
torture that Indian skill could bring upon him, to 
prevail on the prisoner to betray his friends in the 
ark and become a brother to the Iroquois. But 
none of these things moved Deerslayer. 


30 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“Hawkeye is right,” the Iroquios at length 
began; “my paleface brother is right; he is no 
Indian to forget his Manitou and his color. The 
Hurons know that they have a great warrior for 
their prisoner, and they will treat him as one. If 
he is to be tortured, his torments shall be such as 
no common man can bear; if he is to be treated 
as a friend, it will be the friendship of chiefs.” 

As the Huron uttered these words of high 
regard his eye keenly glanced at the countenance 
of his listener, in order to discover how he stood 
the compliment. Acquainted with the Indian 
notions of what constituted respect, in matters 
connected with the treatment of captives, Deer- 
slayer felt his blood chill at the announcement, 
even while he maintained an aspect so steeled that 
his quick-sighted enemy could discover in it no 
signs of weakness. 

“God has put me in your hands, Huron,” the 
captive at length answered, “and I suppose you 
will act your will on me. I shall not boast of what 
I can do under torment, for Tve never been tried, 
and no man can say till he has been; but I’ll do 
my best, not to disgrace the people among whom I 
got my training. We’re all created with more or 
less weakness, and I’m afeared it’s a paleface’s to 
give in under great bodily torment, when a red- 
skin will sing his songs and boast of his deeds in 
the very teeth of his foes!” 

“We shall see. Hawkeye has a good counte- 
nance, and he is tough — but why should he be 
tormented when the Hurons love him ? He is not 






























































































































































































' 





































Hurry Struggles with the Indians 





THE DEERSLAYER 


3 1 

born their enemy; and the death of one warrior 
will not cast a cloud between them forever. ” 

“So much the better, Huron; so much the 
better. Still I don’t wish to owe anything to a 
mistake about each other’s meaning. It is so 
much the better that you bear no malice; and yet 
it is ontrue that there is no hate, lawful hate, I 
mean, atween us. So far as I have redskin feelin’s 
at all, I’ve Delaware feelin’s; and I leave you to 
judge for yourself how far they are likely to be 
fri’ndly to the Mingos.” 

Finding that nothing could be done with Deer- 
slayer, and resolved to attack the ark, recover Hist, 
and overcome Tom Hutter and Hurry, Rivenoak 
and his braves set out that night to carry out their 
plans. 

In the surprise and fight that followed, Hurry, 
after a fierce struggle, was captured, and Tom 
Hutter was scalped and killed, but Chingachgook 
and Hist, with Judith and Hetty, escaped and 
drifted off in the ark. 

Hurry, by shrewd management, flung himself 
into the lake, and, escaping from his captors, 
joined the girls on the ark. 

They buried Tom Hutter in the lake, and then 
Hurry agreed to go to the nearest fort and seek 
help from the soldiers, leaving Serpent and Hist to 
protect the girls in, the ark. 

So hurry left them, and soon after Judith and 
Hetty entered a canoe, and, paddling as near as 
possible to the spot where Hutter had found his 
watery grave, were earnestly discussing their 


32 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


future, when a canoe came paddling up the lake 
and steadily advanced toward the ark. One man 
was alone in the canoe. It was Deerslayer. 

His approach was. so calm and leisurely, how- 
ever, as to fill the watchers with wonder, since a 
man who had just escaped from enemies, by either 
craft or violence, would not be apt to move with 
the steadiness and deliberation with which his 
paddle swept the water. By this time the day 
was fairly departing, and objects were already 
seen dimly under the shores. 

“Welcome — welcome, Deerslayer!” exclaimed 
Judith, as the canoe approached; “we have had 
a melancholy — a frightful day, but your return is, 
at least, one misfortune the less. Have the Hurons 
become more humane and let you go, or have you 
escaped from the wretches by your own courage 
and skill ?” 

“Neither, Judith — neither one nor t’other.” 
Then he explained that he had been released for 
one day only, on a promise to return to captivity. 

That night in the ark Deerslayer told his friends 
why he had been sent back on parole. 

It seemed the Iroquois supposed that Chingach- 
gook was the only defender left on the ark. So 
they sent by Deerslayer a belt of wampum to the 
Serpent, offering him his life and freedom if he 
would send Hist back to their camp and go, him- 
self, back to his own tribe. 

When he had delivered this message, Deerslayer 
smiled at the Serpent. “Come, Chingachgook,” 
he said, “let us hear your mind on this matter — are 


[ THE DEERSLAYER 


33 

you inclined to strike across the hills toward your 
village, to give up Hist to a Huron ?” 

The young chief arose, that his answer might 
be given with due distinctness and dignity. He 
stretched an arm before him, with a calm energy 
that aided in giving emphasis to his expressions. 

“Wampum should be sent for wampum,” he 
said; “a message must be answered by a message. 
Hear what the Great Serpent of the Delawares has 
to say to the pretended wolves from the great lakes, 
that are howling through our woods. They are no 
wolves; they are dogs that have come to get their 
tails and ears cropped by the hands of the Dela- 
wares. They are good at stealing young women; 
bad at keeping them. Chingachgook takes his 
own where he finds it; he asks leave of no cur 
from the Canadas.” 

“That’s a grand dispatch, as the officers call 
them things!” cried Deerslayer; “ ’twill set all 
the Huron blood in motion. And now, Judith, 
it’s your turn to speak, for them miscreants will 
expect an answer from you. The next message 
is to you. They say the Muskrat, as they call 
your father, has dove to the bottom of the lake; 
that he will never come up again, and that his 
young will soon be in want of wigwams, if not of 
food. The Huron huts, they think, are better 
than the huts of York; they wish you to come and 
try them. Your color is white, they own, but they 
think young women who’ve lived so long in the 
woods, would lose their way in the clearin’s. A 
great warrior among them has lately lost his wife, 


34 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


and he would be glad to put the Wild Rose (that’s 
you, Judith) on her bench at his fireside. As for 
the Feeble-Mind, for so they call Hetty, she will 
always be honored and taken care of by red 
warriors. Your father’s goods, they think, ought 
to go to enrich the tribe; but your own property, 
which is to include everything of a female natur,’ 
will go, like that of all wives, into the wigwam of 
the husband. ” 

“And do you bring such a message to me?” 
exclaimed Judith. “Am I a girl to be an Indian’s 
slave?” 

“If you wish my honest thoughts on this p’int, 
Judith, I shall answer that I don’t think you’ll 
willingly ever become any man’s slave, redskin or 
white. You’re not to think hard, hows’ever, of 
my bringing the message, as near as I could, in the 
very words in which it was given to me. Them 
was the conditions on which I got my furlough, 
and a bargain is a bargain, though it is made with 
a vagabond. ” 

“Tell me, first — tell us, first, Deerslayer,” said 
Judith, repeating the words merely to change the 
emphasis, “what effect will our answers have on 
your fate ? If you are to suffer in our place it 
would have been better had we all been more care- 
ful as to the language we use. What, then, are 
likely to be the consequences to yourself?” 

“Lord, Judith, you might as well ask me which 
way the wind will blow next week, or what will be 
the age of the next deer that will be shot! I can 
only say that their faces look a little dark upon me; 


THE DEERSLAYER 


35 


but it doesn’t thunder every time a black cloud 
rises, nor does every puff of wind blow up rain. 
That’s a question, therefore, much more easily put 
than answered.” 

“But you can not mean to give yourself up 
again to those brutal savages, Deerslayer!” she 
said. “Why! ’t would be the act of a madman.” 

“There’s them that thinks it madness to keep 
their words, and there’s them that don’t,” said 
Deerslayer. “I’m one of the last. No redskin 
breathing shall have it in his powder to say that a 
Mingo minds his word more than a man of white 
blood and white gifts, in anything that consarns 
me. I’m out on a furlough, and if I’ve strength 
and reason, I’ll go in on a furlough afore noon 
to-morrow!” 

And so it turned out. By Deerslayer’s own 
advice the answers he took back to the Iroquois 
were both haughty and contemptuous. 

Before he left Deerslayer talked long and 
earnestly with Judith, advising her what to do and 
how to act in the event of an Indian attack, and to 
try to hold out until relief came from the fort, to 
which Hurry had gone. 

He went through her father’s effects with her 
and discovered that neither Judith nor Hetty was 
the daughter of Tom Hutter, but that their father 
was an officer of the British army from whom Tom 
had taken them in childhood. Then, with words 
of farewell, he left them. 

“Farewell, Deerslayer,” said Judith; may God 
bless and protect you as your-honest heart deserves 


36 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


blessing and protection, and as I must think He 
will.” 

The next instant she darted into the hut and was 
seen no more; though she spoke to Hist from a 
window to inform her that their friend expected 
her appearance. 

The farewells were said to Hetty and to Hist. 
Then he held out his hand to the Serpent. 

“ There’s my hand, Delaware,” he said; “you 
know it’s that of a fri’nd, and will shake it as such, 
though it never has done you one-half the good its 
owner wishes it had.” 

The Indian took the offered hand and returned 
its pressure warmly. Then falling back on his 
calmness of manner, he drew up in reserve, and 
prepared to part from his friend with dignity. 
Deerslayer, however, was more natural. 

“God bless you! Sarpent — God bless you!” 
cried the hunter, as the canoe left the side of the 
platform. “Your Manitou and my God only 
know when and where we shall meet ag’in; I shall 
count it a great blessing, and a full reward for any 
little good I may have done on ’arth, if we shall be 
permitted to know each other, and to tjravel 
together, hereafter, as we have so long done in 
these pleasant woods afore us.” 

Chingachgook waved his hand. Drawing the 
light blanket he wore over his head, he slowly with- 
drew into the ark in order to indulge his sorrow 
and his musings alone. Deerslayer was gone. 
It was nearly noon when Deerslayer returned to 
the camp of the Iroquois. 


THE DEERSLAYER 


37 


Rivenoak and another great warrior of the tribe 
called the Panther, sat side by side, awaiting the 
approach of their prisoner, as Deerslayer put his 
moccasined foot on the strand; nor did either 
move or utter a syllable until the young man had 
advanced into the center of the area, and pro- 
claimed his presence with his voice. This was 
done firmly, though in the simple manner that 
marked the character of the individual. 

“Here I am, Mingos, ” he said, in the dialect of 
the Delawares, a language that most present under- 
stood; “here I am, and there is the sun. One is 
not more true to the laws of natur’ than the other 
has proved true to his word. I am your prisoner; 
do with me what you please. My business with 
man and ’arth is settled; nothing remains now but 
to meet the white man’s God, accordin’ to a white 
man’s duties and gifts.” 

A murmur of approval escaped even the women 
at this address, and for an instant there was a 
strong and pretty general desire to adopt into the 
tribe one who owned so brave a spirit. Still there 
were some who differed from this wish, among 
the principal of whom might be classed the 
Panther and his sister, le Sumach, so called from 
the number of her children, who was the widow of 
the Wolf, now known to have fallen by the hand of 
the captive. Not so with Rivenoak. This chief 
arose, stretched his arm before him, in a gesture of 
courtesy, and paid his compliments with an ease 
and dignity that a prince might have envied. 

“Paleface, you are honest,” said the Huron 


38 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


orator. “My people are happy in having cap- 
tured a man and not a skulking fox. We now 
know you; we shall treat you like a brave. If you 
have slain one of our warriors, and helped to kill 
others, you have a life of your own ready to give 
away in return. It is a pleasure to make such a 
prisoner; should my warriors say that the death 
of the Wolf ought not to be forgotten, and that he 
can not travel toward the land of spirits alone, that 
his enemy must be sent to overtake him, they will 
remember that he fell by the hand of a brave, and 
send you after him with such signs of friendship as 
shall not make him ashamed to keep your com- 
pany. I have spoken; you know what I have 
said.” 

“True enough, Mingo, all true as the gospel,” 
returned the simple-minded hunter; “you have 
spoken, and I do know not only what you have 
said, but, what is still more important, what you 
mean. Nevertheless, here I am, ready to receive 
judgment from your council, if, indeed, the matter 
was not detarmined among you afore I got back.” 

“Killer of the Deer,” continued Rivenoak, “my 
aged men have listened to wise words; they are 
ready to speak. One of our best lodges has lately 
been emptied by the death of its master; it will be 
a long time before his son can grow big enough to 
sit in his place. There is his widow! she will want 
venison to feed her children, for her sons are yet 
like the young of the robin before they quit the 
nests. By your hand has this great calamity 
befallen her. Here is the Sumach; she is alone in 


39 


THE DEERSLAYER 

her wigwam, with children crying around her for 
food; yonder is a rifle; it is loaded and ready to be 
fired. Take the gun; go forth and shoot a deer; 
bring the venison and lay it before the widow of 
the Wolf; feed her children; call yourself her 
husband. After which your heart will no longer 
be Delaware but Huron; Sumach’s ears will not 
hear the cries of her children; my people will 
count the proper number of warriors.” 

“I feared this, Rivenoak,” answered Deerslayer, 
when the other had ceased speaking; “yes, I did 
dread that it would come to this. However, the 
truth is soon told. Mingo, I’m white, and Chris- 
tian-born; ’twould ill become me to take a wife, 
under redskin forms, from among heathen. I may 
never marry; most likely Providence, in putting 
me up here in the woods, has intended I should 
live single, and without a lodge of my own: but 
should such a thing come to pass, none but a 
woman of my own color and gifts shall darken the 
door of my wigwam. As for getting a Mingo 
heart, as well might you expect to see gray hairs on 
a boy, or the blackberry growing on the pine. 
No, no, Huron; my gifts are white, so far as wives 
are consarned; it is Delaware in all things touchin’ 
Injins.” 

These words were scarcely out of the mouth of 
Deerslayer before a common murmur betrayed 
the dissatisfaction with which they had been heard. 
But all the other tokens of disappointment and 
discontent were thrown into the background by 
the fierce anger of the Panther. The animal from 


4 o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


which he got his name does not glare on his in- 
tended prey with more frightful ferocity than his 
eyes gleamed on the captive; nor was his arm 
backward in seconding the fierce hatred that 
almost consumed his breast. 

“Dog of the palefaces!” he exclaimed, in 
Iroquois, “ go yell among the curs of your own evil 
hunting-grounds ! ” 

The denunciation was accompanied by an 
appropriate action. Even while speaking, his 
arm was lifted and the tomahawk hurled. Luckily 
the loud tones of the speaker had drawn the eye of 
Deerslayer toward him, else would that moment 
have probably closed his career. So great was the 
dexerity with which this dangerous weapon was 
thrown, and so deadly the intent, that it would 
have riven the skull of the prisoner, had he not 
stretched forth an arm and caught the handle in 
one of its turns, with a readiness quite as re- 
markable as the skill with which the missile had 
been hurled. The force was so great, notwith- 
standing, that when Deerslayer’s arm was arrested 
his hand was raised above and behind his own 
head, and in the very attitude necessary to return 
the attack. It is not certain whether the fact of 
finding himself unexpectedly in this threatening 
posture and armed, tempted the young man to 
retaliate, or whether sudden anger overcame his 
forbearance and prudence. His eye kindled, 
however, and a small red spot appeared on each 
cheek, while he cast all his energy into the effort 
of his arm and threw back the weapon at his 


THE DEERSLAYER 


4i 


assailant. The unexpectedness of this blow aided 
in its success, the Panther neither raising an arm 
nor bending his head to avoid it. The keen little 
ax struck the victim in a straight line with the nose, 
directly between the eyes, literally braining him on 
the spot. 

Sallying forward, as the serpent darts at its 
enemy even while receiving its own death-wound, 
this man of powerful frame fell his length into the 
open area formed by the circle, quivering in death. 
A common rush to his relief left the captive, for a 
single instant, quite without the crowd, and, will- 
ing to make one desperate effort for life, he 
bounded off with the activity of a deer. There was 
but a breathless instant, when the whole band, old 
and young, women and children, abandoning the 
lifeless body of the Panther where it lay, raised the 
yell of alarm, and followed in pursuit. 

Sudden as had been the event which induced 
Deerslayer to make this desperate trial of speed, 
his mind was not wholly unprepared for the fearful 
moment. In the course of the past hour he had 
thought well on the chances of such an effort, and 
had shrewdly calculated all the details of success 
and failure. At the first leap, therefore, his body 
was completely under the direction of a mind that 
turned all its efforts to the best account, and pre- 
vented everything like hesitation or indecision at 
the important instant of the start. To this alone 
was he indebted for the first great advantage — that 
of getting through the line of sentinels unharmed. 

Deerslayer ran toward the lake, which was 


42 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


hidden by bushes, and, as the sentinels were a 
little without the commencement of this thicket 
before the alarm was clearly communicated to 
them, the fugitive had gained its cover. To run 
among the bushes, however, was out of the ques- 
tion, and Deerslayer held his way for some forty 
or fifty yards, in the water which was barely knee 
deep, offering as great an obstacle to the speed of 
his pursuers as it did to his own. As soon as a 
favorable spot presented, he darted through the 
line of bushes, and ran into the open woods. 

Deerslayer had a desperate project in view. 
Abandoning all thoughts of escape by the woods, 
and artfully concealing himself until his pursuers 
had passed, he turned and made the best of his way 
toward the canoe. He knew where it lay; could it 
be reached, he had only to run the gantlet of a 
few rifles, and success would be certain. 

As Deerslayer approached the point, several 
women and children were passed, but, though the 
former endeavored to cast dried branches between 
his legs, the terror inspired by his bold revenge on 
the Panther was so great that none dared come 
near enough seriously to molest him. He went 
by all triumphantly, and reached the fringe of 
bushes. Plunging through these, our hero found 
himself once more in the lake and within fifty feet 
of the canoe. Here he ceased to run, for he well 
understood that his breath was now all-important 
to him. He even stooped, as he advanced, and 
cooled his parched mouth, by scooping up water in 
his hand to drink, Still the moments pressed, 


THE DEERSLAYER 


43 


and he soon stood at the side of the canoe. The 
first glance told him that the paddles had been 
removed! This was a sore disappointment after 
all his efforts, and, for a single moment, he thought 
of turning and of facing his foes by walking with 
dignity into the center of the camp again. But an 
infernal yell, such as the American savage alone 
can raise, proclaimed the quick approach of the 
nearest of his pursuers, and the eager longing for 
life triumphed. Preparing himself duly, and giv- 
ing a right direction to its bows, he ran off into the 
water, bearing the canoe before him, threw all his 
strength and skill into a last effort, and cast him- 
self forward so as to fall into the bottom of the light 
craft, scarcely hindering its way. Here he re- 
mained on his back, both to regain his breath and 
to cover his body from the deadly rifle. 

Perhaps the situation of Deerslayer had not 
been more critical at any time that day than it was 
at this minute. It certainly had not been one-half 
as tantalizing. He lay perfectly quiet for two or 
three minutes, trusting to the single sense of hear- 
ing, confident that the noise in the lake would 
reach his ears did any one venture to approach by 
swimming. Once or twice he fancied that the 
water was stirred by the cautious movement of an 
arm, and then he perceived it was the wash of the 
water on the pebbles of the strand. By this time 
the canoe had drifted so far as to render nothing 
visible to Deerslayer, as he lay on his back, except 
the blue void of space, and a few of those brighter 
rays that proceed from the brightness of the sun, 


44 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


marking its nearness. It was not possible to 
endure this uncertainty long. The young man well 
knew that the profound stillness foreboded evil, 
the savages never being so silent as when about to 
strike a blow, — resembling the stealthy foot of a 
panther before he takes his leap. He took out a 
knife, and was about to cut a hole through the 
bark in order to get a view of the shore, when he 
paused from a dread of being seen in the operation, 
which would direct the enemy where to aim their 
bullets. At this instant a rifle was fired, and the 
ball pierced both sides of the canoe, within eighteen 
inches of the spot where his head lay. This was 
close, but our hero was not appalled. He lay still 
half a minute longer, and then he saw the summit 
of an oak coming slowly within his narrow horizon. 

Deerslayer now felt the urgent necessity of 
resorting to some plan to get further from his foes, 
and, if possible, to inform his friends of his situa- 
tion. 

Before quitting the shore, and as soon as he 
perceived that the paddles were gone, Deerslayer 
had thrown a bit of dead branch into the canoe, 
and this was within reach of his arm. Removing 
the cap he wore, he put it on the end of his stick, 
and just let it appear over the edge of the canoe, 
as far as possible from his own person. This 
trick was scarcely tried before the young man had 
proof of how much he had failed to understand the 
shrewdness of his enemies. In contempt of a plan 
so shallow and commonplace, a bullet was fired 
directly through another part of the canoe, which 


THE DEERSLAYER 


45 


actually grazed his skin. He dropped the cap, and 
instantly raised it immediately over his head as a 
safeguard. 

Deerslayer lay perfectly still a few minutes 
longer, his eye at the bullet-hole, however, and 
much did he rejoice at seeing that he was drifting 
gradually further and further from the shore. 

Some additional ten minutes may have passed 
in this silent manner on both sides, when Deer- 
slayer thought he heard a slight noise, like a low 
rubbing against the bottom of his canoe. He 
opened his eyes of course, in expectation of seeing 
the face or arm of an Indian rising from the water, 
and found that a canopy of leaves was impending 
directly over his head. Starting to his feet, the 
first object that met his eye was Rivenoak, who 
had so far aided the slow progress of the boat as to 
draw it on the point, the grating on the strand 
being the sound that had first given our hero the 
alarm. 

“ Come,” said the Huron, with a quiet gesture of 
authority to order his prisoner to land; “my 
young friend has sailed about till he is tired; he 
will forget how to run again, unless he uses his 
legs.” 

“You’ve the best of it, Huron,” returned Deer- 
slayer, stepping steadily from the canoe, and 
following his leader to the open area of the point; 
“Providence has helped you in an unexpected 
manner. I’m your prisoner ag’in and I hope 
you’ll allow that I’m as good at breaking jail as I 
am at keeping furloughs.” 


46 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“My young friend is a moose !” exclaimed the 
Huron. “His legs are very long; they have given 
my young men trouble. But he is not a fish; he 
can not find his way in the lake. We did not shoot 
him; fish are taken in nets, and not killed by 
bullets. When he turns moose again he will be 
treated like a moose. ” 

“Ay, have your talk, Rivenoak, make the most 
of your advantage. ’Tis your right, I suppose, 
and I know it is your gift. On that p’int there’ll 
be no words atween us; for all men must and 
ought to follow their gifts. I’m your captyve; 
work your will on me. ” 

When the whole band was arrayed once more 
around the captive, a grave silence, so much the 
more threatening from its profound quiet, filled 
the place. Deerslayer perceived that the women 
and boys had been preparing splinters of the 
fat pine roots, which he well knew were to be 
stuck into his flesh and set in flames, while two or 
three of the young men held the thongs of bark 
with which he was to be bound. The smoke of a 
distant fire announced that the burning brands 
were in preparation, and several of the elder 
warriors passed their fingers over the edges of 
their tomahawks, as if to prove their keenness and 
temper. Even the knives seemed loosened in 
their sheaths, impatient for the bloody and 
merciless work to begin. 

“Killer of the Deer,” recommenced Rivenoak, 
certainly without any signs of sympathy or pity in 
his manner, though with calmness and dignity; 


THE DEERSLAYER 


47 


“ Killer of the Deer, it is time that my people knew 
their minds. My people must go back and see to 
their own business. There will be joy in the lodges 
when they hear our whoop from the forest. It will 
be a sorrowful whoop; when it is understood, 
grief will come after it. There will be one scalp- 
whoop* but there will be only one. We have the 
fur of the Muskrat; his body is among the fishes. 
Deerslayer must say whether another scalp shall 
be on our pole. Two lodges are empty; a scalp, 
living or dead, is wanted at each door. ” 

“Then take ’em dead, Huron,” firmly, but 
altogether without boasting, returned the captive. 
“My hour is come, I do suppose; and what must 
be, must. If you are bent on the tortur’, I’ll do 
my indivours to bear up ag’in it, though no man 
can say how far his natur’ will stand pain until 
he’s been tried.” 

Rivenoak saw that his warriors were anxious to 
begin the torture, and, accordingly, gave the 
signal to proceed. 

No sooner did the young men understand that 
they were at liberty to commence than some of the 
boldest and most forward among them sprang into 
the arena, tomahawk in hand. Here they pre- 
pared to throw that dangerous weapon, the bbject 
being to strike the tree as near as possible to the 
victim’s head without absolutely hitting him. 
This was so hazardous an experiment that none 
but those who were known to be exceedingly 
expert- with the weapon were allowed to enter the 
lists at all, lest an early death might interfere with 


4 8 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


the expected pleasure. In the truest hands it was 
seldom that the captive escaped injury in these 
trials; and it often happened that death followed, 
even when the blow was not intended. 

It would seem, however, that all who now 
entered what we shall call the lists, were more dis- 
posed to show their own skill than to resent the 
deaths of their comrades. The young men were 
eager, instead of being fierce, and Rivenoak 
thought he still saw signs of being able to save the 
life of the captive when the vanity of the young men 
had been gratified; always admitting that it was 
not sacrificed to the delicate experiments that were 
about to be made. 

The first youth who presented himself for the 
trial was called the Raven, having as yet had no 
opportunity of obtaining a more warlike name. 
He was remarkable for high pretensions rather 
than for skill or exploits, and those who knew his 
character thought the captive in imminent danger 
when he took his stand and poised the tomahawk. 
Deerslayer got an inkling of this warrior’s want of 
reputation by the warnings given to him by the 
seniors; who, indeed, would have objected to his 
appearing in the field at all but for an influence 
derived from his father, an aged warrior of great 
merit, who was then in the lodges of the tribe. 
Still, our hero maintained an appearance of self- 
possession. He had made up his mind that his 
hour was come, and it would have been a mercy 
instead of a calamity to fall by the unsteadiness of 
the first hand that was raised against him. 


THE DEERSLAYER 


49 


After a suitable number of flourishes and gesticu- 
lations that promised much more than he could 
perform, the Raven let the tomahawk quit his 
hand. The weapon whirled through the air with 
the usual evolutions, cut a chip from the sapling to 
which the prisoner was bound, within a few inches 
of his cheek, and stuck in a large oak that grew 
several yards behind him. This was decidedly a 
bad effort, and a common sneer proclaimed as 
„ much, to the great disgust of the young man. On 
the other hand, there was a general but suppressed 
murmur of admiration at the steadiness with which 
the captive stood the trial. The head was the 
only part he could move, and this had been pur- 
posely left free that the tormentors might have the 
amusement, and the tormented endure the shame 
of dodging, and otherwise attempting to avoid the 
blows. Deerslayer disappointed these hopes by a 
command of nerve that rendered his whole body 
as immovable as the tree to which he was bound. 
He did not even shut his eyes; the firmest and 
oldest warrior of the red men never having more 
disdainfully denied himself this advantage under 
similar circumstances. 

The Raven had no sooner made his unsuccessful 
and boyish effort than he was succeeded by the 
Moose, a middle-aged warrior who was particu- 
larly skilful in the use of the tomahawk, and from 
whose attempt the spectators confidently looked 
for enjoyment. He took his stand quietly, but 
with an air of confidence, poised his little ax, but a 
single instant, advanced a foot with a quick motion, 


5 o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

and threw. Deerslayer saw the keen instrument 
whirling toward him, and believed all was over; 
still, he was not touched. The tomahawk had 
actually bound the head of the captive to the tree 
by carrying before it some of his hair; having 
buried itself deep beneath the soft bark. A gen- 
eral yell expressed the delight of the specta- 
tors, and the Moose felt his heart soften a little 
toward the prisoner, whose steadiness of nerve 
alone enabled him to give this proof of his great 
skill. 

The Moose was succeeded by "the Bounding 
Boy, who came leaping into the circle like a hound 
or a goat at play. The Bounding Boy skipped 
about in front of the captive, threatening him with 
his tomahawk, now on one side and now on the 
other, and then again in front, in the vain hope of 
being able to extort some sign of fear by this parade 
of danger. 

The same nervous excitability which rendered 
him so active in his person made it difficult to hold 
in. The aim was uncertain, and the weapon 
glanced near the cheek of the captive, slightly cut- 
ting the shoulder in its movement. This was the 
first instance in which any other object than that 
of terrifying the prisoner and of displaying skill 
had been manifest; and the Bounding Boy was 
immediately led from the arena, and was warmly 
rebuked for his foolish haste, which had come so 
near defeating all the hopes of the band. 

To this irritable person succeeded several other 
young warriors, who not only hurled the toma- 


THE DEERSLAYER 


5 1 


hawk, but who cast the knife — a far more dan- 
gerous experiment — with reckless carelessness; 
yet they always showed a skill that prevented any 
injury to the captive. Several times Deerslayer 
was grazed, but in no instance did he receive what 
might be termed a wound. The unflinching firm- 
ness with which he faced his foes, more especially 
in the sort of rally with which this trial ended, 
excited a profound respect in the spectators; and 
when the chiefs announced that the prisoner had 
well withstood the trials of the knife and the toma- 
hawk, there was scarcely a single individual in the 
band who really felt any hostility toward him. 

Rivenoak now told his people that the paleface 
had proved himself to be a man. He might live 
with the Delawares, but he had not been made 
woman with that tribe. He wished to know 
whether it was the desire of the Hurons to proceed 
any further. Even the gentlest of the females, 
however, had received too much satisfaction in the 
late trials to forego their expectations of a gratify- 
ing exhibition; and there was but one voice in the 
request to proceed. Rivenoak therefore called 
four or five of the best marksman to him and bid 
them put the captive to the proof of the rifle, while 
at the same time, he cautioned them touching the 
necessity of their maintaining their own credit by 
the closest attention to the manner of exhibiting 
their skill. 

When Deerslayer saw the chosen warriors step 
into the circle with their arms prepared for service, 
he felt some such relief as the miserable sufferer 


52 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


who has long endured the agonies of disease feels 
at the certain coming of death. 

He now fully expected the end of his career, and 
experienced a sort of melancholy pleasure in the 
idea that he was to fall by a weapon as much 
beloved as the rifle. 

The warriors took their places and prepared to 
exhibit their skill, as there was a double object in 
view — that of putting the constancy of the captive 
to the proof, and that of showing how steady were 
the hands of the marksmen under circumstances 
of excitement. The distance was small, and, in 
one sense, safe. But in shortening the distance 
taken by the tormentors, the trial to the nerves of 
the captive was increased. The face of Deer- 
slayer, indeed, was just removed sufficiently from 
the ends of the guns to escape the effects of the 
flash, and his steady eye was enabled to look 
directly into their muzzles, as it might be, in 
anticipation of the fatal messenger that was to issue 
from each. The cunning Hurons well knew this 
fact; and scarce one leveled his piece without first 
causing it to point as near as possible at the fore- 
head of the prisoner, in the hope that his courage 
would fail him, and that the band would enjoy the 
triumph of seeing a victim quail under their 
ingenious cruelty. Nevertheless, each of the 
competitors was still careful not to injure; the 
disgrace of striking prematurely being second 
only to that of failing altogether in attaining the 
object. 

Shot after shot was made, all the bullets coming 


THE DEERSLAYER 


53 

in close proximity to the Deerslayer’s head without 
touching it. 

Rivenoak perceived that the moment was 
critical, and, still retaining his hope of adopting so 
noted a hunter into his tribe, the shrewd old chief 
interposed. Moving into the center of the 
irritated group he addressed them with his usual 
wily logic and skilful manner. 

“I see how it is,” he said. “We have bound 
the Deerslayer too tight; the thongs keep his limbs 
from shaking, and his eyes from shutting. Loosen 
him; let us see what his own body is really made 
of.” 

But even as they loosed the bands that bound 
their captive, there came an extraordinary inter- 
ruption. 

A young Indian came bounding through the 
Huron ranks, leaping into the very center of the 
circle, in a way to denote the utmost confidence, or 
a boldness bordering on foolhardiness. The 
movements of the stranger were so rapid, and his 
war-dress, which scarcely left him more clothing 
than an ancient statue, had so little distinguishing 
about it, that, at the first moment, it was impos- 
sible to ascertain whether he were friend or foe. 

Three leaps carried this warrior to the side of 
Deerslayer, whose withes were cut in the twinkling 
of an eye, with a quickness and precision that left 
the prisoner perfect master of his limbs. Not till 
this was effected did the stranger bestow a glance 
on any other object; then he turned and showed 
the astonished Hurons the noble brow, fine person 


54 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


and eagle eye of a young warrior, in the paint and 
panoply of a Delaware. He held a rifle in each 
hand, the butts of both resting on the earth, while 
from one dangled its proper pouch and horn. 
This was Killdeer, Deerslayer’s own gun, which, 
even as he looked boldly and in defiance on the 
crowd around him, he suffered to fall back into the 
hands of its proper owner. 

The presence of two armed men, though it was 
in their midst, startled the Hurons. Their rifles 
were scattered about against the different trees, 
and their only weapons were their knives and 
tomahawks. Still they had too much self-pos- 
session to betray fear. It was little likely that so 
small a force would assail so strong a band; and 
each man expected some extraordinary proposition 
to follow so decisive a step. The stranger did not 
seem disposed to disappoint them; he prepared 
to speak. 

“Hurons,” he said, “this earth is very big. 
The great lakes are big, too; there is room beyond 
them for the Iroquois; there is room for the Dela- 
wares on this side. I am Chingachgook, the son of 
Uncas; the kinsman of Tamenund; that paleface 
is my friend. My heart was heavy when I missed 
him; I followed him to your camp to see that no 
harm happened to him. All the Delaware girls 
are waiting for Hist; they wonder that she stays 
away so long. Come, let us say farewell, and go on 
our path.” 

“Hurons, this is your mortal enemy, the Great 
Serpent of them you hate!” cried Briarthorn, the 


THE DEERSLAYER 


55 


chief who had claimed Hist as his captive and 
bride. “If he escape, blood will be in your 
moccasin prints from this to the Canadas.” 

As the last words were uttered, the traitor cast 
his knife at the naked breast of the Delaware. A 
quick movement of the arm turned aside the blow, 
the dangerous weapon burying its point in a pine. 
At the next instant a similar weapon glanced from 
the hand of the Serpent and quivered in his enemy’s 
heart. A minute had scarcely passed from the 
moment in which Chingachgook bounded into the 
circle and that in which Briarthorn fell, like a log, 
dead in his tracks. The rapidity of events pre- 
vented the Hurons from acting; but this terrible 
stroke permitted no further delay. A common 
exclamation followed, and the whole party was in 
motion. 

At this instant a sound unusual to the woods 
was heard, and every Huron, male and female, 
paused to listen, with ears erect and faces filled 
with expectation. The sound was regular and 
heavy, as if the earth were struck with beetles. 
Objects became visible among the trees of the back- 
ground, and a body of troops was seen advancing 
with measured tread. They came upon the 
charge, the scarlet of the king’s livery shining 
among the bright green foliage of the forest. 

The scene that followed is not easily described. 
It was one in which wild confusion, despair, and 
frenzied efforts were so blended as to destroy the 
unity and distinctness of the action. A general 
yell burst from the enclosed Hurons; it was sue- 


56 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


ceeded by the hearty cheers of England. Still, 
not a musket or rifle was fired, though that steady, 
measured tramp continued, and the bayonet was 
seen gleaming in advance of a line that counted 
nearly sixty men. 

The Hurons were taken at a fearful disadvantage. 
On three sides was the water, while their formid- 
able and trained foes cut them off from flight on 
the fourth. Each warrior rushed for his arms, 
and then all on the point, man, woman, and child, 
eagerly sought the covers. 

Deerslayer watched his opportunity, and finding 
two of his recent tormentors in a range, his rifle 
first broke the silence of the terrific scene. The 
bullet brought down both at one discharge. This 
drew a general fire from the Hurons, and the rifle 
and war-cry of the Serpent were heard in the 
clamor. Still the trained men returned no answer- 
ing volley, the whoop and piece of Surry alone 
being heard on their side, if we except the short, 
prompt word of authority, and that heavy, 
measured, and threatening tread. Presently, how- 
ever, the shrieks, groans, and cries that usually 
accompany the use of the bayonet, followed. 
That terrible and deadly weapon was glutted in 
vengeance. The scene that succeeded was one of 
those of which so many have taken place in our 
own times, in which neither age nor sex is spared 
in the lot of a savage warfare. 

So was Deerslayer rescued and succor came to 
the girls in the ark. Soon after Hetty sickened 
and died; Judith left the lake and the woods, and 


THE DEERSLAYER 


57 


went to England to seek a home among her own 
people. 

As for Deerslayer, he for a time was irresolute 
as to his course; but in the end he determined to 
join the Serpent and Hist and return to the land of 
the Delawares. That night the three “ camped” 
on the head-waters of their own river, and the suc- 
ceeding evening they entered the village of the 
tribe — Chingachgook and his beloved in triumph, 
their companion honored and admired. 

The war that then had its rise was stirring and 
bloody. The Delaware chief rose among his 
people, until his name was never mentioned with- 
out eulogiums, while another Uncas, the last of his 
race, was added to the long line of warriors who 
bore that famous name. As for the Deerslayer, 
under the name of Hawkeye, he made his fame 
spread far and near, until the crack of his rifle 
became as terrible to the ears of the Mingos as the 
thunders of the Manitou. His services were soon 
required by the officers of the crown, and he 
especially attached himself in the field to one in 
particular, with whose after-life he had a close and 
important connection. You who would like to 
know more about this scout and hunter should 
read the story of “ The Last of the Mohicans. ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 


A TALE OF INDIAN ADVENTURE. 
"VAY off in the woods, in the heart of the 



New York forests, there rode, one beautiful 


* ^ summer day, many years ago, before the 
Revolution, while the American Colonies were 
still under the rule of Great Britain, a party of four 
people — men and women. 

They were looking about them in anxiety and 
trouble, and well they might, for these four 
travelers and their Indian guide were lost in the 
woods. 

Two of the party were sisters. Their names 
were Cora and Alice Munro. Their father was a 
colonel in the British army, who lived with his 
soldiers in a fort near Lake George, in New York. 
They were in care of a fine young soldier, who was 
their father’s chief officer. His name was Duncan 
Heyward. With them was a half-foolish — what 
boys call “luney” — singing master, who did not 
know a gun from a fishing pole, and had joined 
the young officer through fear of trouble. For it 
was in troublesome times that these people were 
traveling through the woods. The English people 
who lived in New York, and the French people 
who lived in Canada, were at war, and the Indians 
were helping one side or the other. The Indians, 


(58) 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 


59 


you know, used to fight in the woods, behind trees 
and among the bushes, where no one could see 
them; so whoever traveled in the great dark woods 
that then covered the land was in constant danger 
from hostile Indians. 

There was an Indian with this party, but he was 
standing beside a tree, silent and sulky. He said 
he had lost the path to the Fort. 

Just as they had come along the deer path they 
were traveling, out into an open space in the woods, 
they saw a hunter and two Indians. 

The hunter was a white man. He was such a 
sure shot with his trusty rifle that men called him 
“Hawkeye. ” His real name was Natty Bumpo. 
His rifle, of which he was very proud, he called 
“Killdeer,” because it was so sure; but the 
Indians who knew him and were afraid of him, 
called him, because of this terrible gun, “The Long 
Carbine” — the carbine is a kind of gun, you know. 

“What, you are lost ?” he said, in answer to 
Duncan’s explanation. “Lost in the woods with 
an Indian for a guide ? Whoever heard of such a 
thing?” 

He took a look at the Indian guide. The white 
man and the red man stood face to face, but 
neither spoke. Then the hunter went back to 
Duncan. 

“He’s a Mingo,” he said, “and I wouldn’t trust 
him. He’ll get you into trouble. You’d better 
let me shoot him.” 

“No, no,” answered Duncan; “that would not 
be right. I’ll talk with him.” 


6o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


So he went forward to talk with the guide, while 
Hawkeye joined his two Indian companions. 

They were splendid looking red men — a father 
and his son. The father’s name was Chingach- 
gook; the son’s name was Uncas. They belonged 
to a tribe called Mohicans. The Indian guide 
whom Hawkeye suspected belonged to a tribe 
called Hurons, and was known as the “Sly Fox.” 

While Hawkeye talked with Uncas and his 
father, Duncan told the Fox that he had found 
some one who could show them the way to the Fort. 

“A white man? Then I will go away,” said 
the Fox. 

But Duncan did not wish him to, for if this 
Indian were a bad one, as Hawkeye said, he could 
at once bring other Indians upon the party and 
kill them. So Duncan tried to keep him, and 
when the Indian would not promise to go quietly 
with him, he tried to seize him. But the Fox, 
with a sudden move, pulled away from him, and 
darted into the forest. 

Quick as he ran away, the two Indians, Uncas 
and his father, darted after him, and a ball from 
Hawkeye’s rifle followed him. The Fox was too 
swift for them, however, though by the blood on 
the sumach leaves Hawkeye knew that he had hit 
him. 

Hawkeye told Duncan that as long as the Fox 
was at liberty they were in danger, and they must 
get away as fast as they could. 

Duncan then asked the hunter to help him, and 
the sisters who were in his care, so that they could 



A Shot Made the Body Fall. 






















THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 61 


get to the Fort, and, after talking to the two 
Mohicans, Hawkeye said he would do so, but first 
they must get to a safe hiding-place out of the way 
of Sly Fox and his band; for the hunter was sure 
that the Fox had meant to lead the party into 
danger. 

So, telling them to be very quiet, Hawkeye led 
the travelers to his secret hiding-place. He took 
them to the river bank, where he tied the horses 
to the trees, drew a canoe of bark from a place of 
hiding, and then paddled them to a cavern behind 
a great fall of water into which he guided the canoe 
very skilfully. There, he told them, they would 
be safe and sound. 

But when the morning came and the hunter 
made ready to go on the journey, alas! the Fox 
and his savages had tracked them to their hiding- 
place by means of the horses and tried to get at 
them in their cave. 

But the hunter and his Indian friends, the 
Mohicans, fought long and bravely against the 
Huron foemen, and kept them away from the 
river and the rocky cavern, killing many and 
wounding many. But at last their powder gave 
out, and they could no longer hold the savages off. 

They would not desert the two girls, and pre- 
pared to stay and die for them under the Huron 
attack. But Cora, the elder of the sisters, said it 
was not right to do this, and they must save their 
own lives, even if she and her sister were captured 
by the Indians. 

Duncan, of course, would not leave the sisters, 


62 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


and the poor music teacher had been hurt by an 
Indian bullet. So, at last, Hawkeye, and the two 
Indians, one by one, left them. 

But as the hunter dropped into the water to 
swim to the further shore he said to Cora, “ Trust 
to me. If the Indians take you off, break off a 
piece of twig now and then as you go. Someone 
will follow you.” 

So they left them, and soon after the Huron Fox 
and his band, with yells of joy, broke into the 
cavern and carried the four travelers away captive. 

The Hurons were very angry to know that their 
especial enemies, Hawkeye, Uncas, and his father, 
had escaped them, for they greatly wished to cap- 
ture these three. 

They prepared, however, to carry their other 
captives away; but Duncan tried hard to get the 
Fox to set them free and conduct them to Cora’s 
father at the Fort. He offered the Huron great 
rewards if he would do this. 

The Fox, however, would promise nothing, and 
the Indians led their captives away. At last they 
rested on a small hill, and there the Fox told 
Duncan he must talk alone with “the dark hair.” 
This was Cora, the elder sister. She listened to 
the Fox. He told her how the white men had ill- 
treated him, how even her own father, who com- 
manded at the Fort, had done so, and that now he 
would have his revenge. But he promised, after 
Cora had pleaded with him, to send her sister 
Alice and Duncan without harm to her father if 
she would do one thing. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 63 

“And what is that ?” asked Cora. 

“Let the daughter of the English chief follow 
me to the tribe of the Hurons and live in my wig- 
wam forever,” said the Fox. 

“Be the cruel Huron’s wife? Never.” So 
Cora thought; and when she knew that the 
revengeful Fox wished to do this only to make her 
father suffer and be sad, she called him a monster 
and defied him. 

The Fox left her without a word. But he joined 
his companions at once, and made a speech that so 
stirred them up against their captives that they 
seized them and prepared the fire to burn and 
torture them. 

The Fox tried to work on Cora’s feelings by 
telling her how her sister would suffer. But when 
Cora told Alice and Duncan what the bad Huron 
demanded as the price of their safety, they both 
said they had rather die all together. 

“Then die!” shouted the Fox, and flung his 
tomahawk at Alice, just missing her fair head. 
This made Duncan so angry that with a mighty 
strain he snapped his bonds, and threw himself 
upon another Indian who had his tomahawk up 
ready to kill. But as they fell together to the 
ground, the Indian on top, and Duncan certain that 
he was about to be slain, bang! came the crack of a 
rifle, and the Indian fell dead by his side. 

Duncan sprang to his feet. The Hurons knew 
not what to make of this sudden attack. Then 
there came a shout from the thicket, and the 
Hurons broke out into a howl. 


64 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“The Long Carbine !” they cried. 

Sure enough, it was Hawkeye. 

In an instant he and his two friends, Chingach- 
gook and Uncas, were among the captives, cutting 
them loose. 

But the Fox acted quickly. He gave a loud war- 
whoop and rushed straight at Chingachgook. 
Then Hawkeye and his friends began a fierce fight. 

“Kill the Mingos!” he cried, and, raising Kill- 
deer as a club, he struck right and left among the 
Hurons. 

As they fought, a big Huron, springing at Cora, 
seized her by her long hair, bent her head, and 
flourished his dreadful scalping knife, but with a 
bound the young Mohican, Uncas, sprang against 
him, and buried his knife in the Huron’s heart. 

At the same time Chingachgook, who was 
fighting with the Fox, bore him to the ground in 
triumph. 

“Well done! Victory for the Mohican,” cried 
Hawkeye. 

But just as he was on the point of finishing the 
Fox by a blow of his rifle, the sly Fox rolled from 
under him, and, tumbling over the cliff, sprang to 
his feet and ran like the wind. 

“He’s a lying varlet,” said Hawkeye, “but ’tis 
like him.” 

But the sisters thankfully exclaimed, “We are 
saved; we are saved.” 

Then Hawkeye told them how he and his 
Mohican friends, after swimming away from the 
cave, had furnished themselves with more powder 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 65 


for their guns, and had then quietly followed the 
Hurons until, at just the right moment, they were 
able to rush in and set them free. 

So they went on cautiously through the forest. 
There was danger all about them. Once they just 
escaped another band of Indians; once they almost 
ran into the arms of their French enemies; and 
when they reached Fort Edward, which Cora’s 
father commanded, they found the Fort all sur- 
rounded by an army of French and Indians. At 
last, after many dangers, they entered the Fort in 
safety. 

Duncan had now the satisfaction of restoring the 
girls to their gray-haired father, the commander 
of the Fort, who folded his daughter in his arms, 
and while tears of joy and contentment poured 
down his cheeks, cried: 

“O Lord, I thank thee! Now let danger come 
as it will. ” 

The danger came soon enough. Although safe 
in the Fort, still the siege roared all about it, and 
help did not come. 

Colonel Munro now sent Hawkeye with a 
message to the general of the British army not far 
away, begging him to send help at once, or they 
could not save the Fort from the French. But 
Hawkeye was captured by French soldiers, the 
letter he was bringing back in reply was taken 
from him, and he was sent back into the Fort, and 
the Colonel saw there was no way but to ask the 
French to take the Fort and let the English 
soldiers go in peace. 


5 


66 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Montcalm, the French commander, promised 
Munro that if he gave up the Fort his men should 
keep their guns and their flag, and march out of 
the Fort free men. 

There was nothing else to be done but accept 
these generous terms. No help would come to 
them from the British army. So Colonel Munro 
thanked General Montcalm for his kindness. 

The next day Munro and his garrison sadly gave 
up the Fort they had defended so bravely. The 
Frenchmen marched in; the Englishmen marched 
out, and with them went Cora and Alice, with the 
women and children, the sick and the wounded. 

But while the column was moving from the 
Fort and toward the forest, a stealthy Indian went 
gliding about among the red allies of the French- 
men. It was the Sly Fox, the Huron. 

Suddenly he gave the fatal and fearful war 
whoop, and at the signal the swarming Indians 
with one leap were upon the fugitives. The 
terrible tomahawk fell in its deadly blow and two 
thousand howling savages pursued their horrid 
work of murder, while no Frenchman stopped 
them. The word of Montcalm was broken. 

Colonel Munro rushed to the French camp to 
tell Montcalm what he thought of him, and bid 
him stop the murder. 

But as he went, the wicked Fox sprang among 
the fugitives, and, seizing the fainting Alice, ran to 
the forest, followed by Cora, who told him to give 
up her sister. So he took both the girls away 
captive. But the simple-minded music teacher 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 67 

followed on, resolved to help the poor girls if he 
could. 

The Indian put the sisters on one of their own 
ponies, while he, upon the other, led their pony 
along by the bridle-rein, the singer, still following 
on behind upon a stray horse which had got away 
in the tumult. 

So, although the two girls were saved from the 
dreadful murder of the English prisoners by the 
Indians, over one thousand in all being slain, they 
were in the power of this cruel and revengeful 
Huron chieftain, the Fox, who would keep them 
captive to carry out some dark plan of his own. 

A day or two after the capture of the Fort and 
the murder of its brave defenders, five men came 
from the forest and searched the ground all 
around the ruined Fort. 

They were Hawkeye, and his two Indian friends, 
the Mohicans, Colonel Munro, the father of the 
captured girls, and their friend, young Duncan 
Heyward. In the retreat from the Fort and the 
terrible time that followed, both the soldiers had 
been with their men, and had left the two girls in 
care of the poor singing teacher. 

After the dreadful day was over they were afraid 
that the girls had been killed, and were now hunt- 
ing among the victims, fearing that they might 
find them, and yet anxious to know what had 
happened to them. 

They found that the two girls were captives, 
and in the power of the Huron Fox. 

Early the next morning they started on the path 


68 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


which Hawkeye had decided upon. They pad- 
died along the shores and the islands of beautiful 
Lake George in a canoe, watching carefully. 
Suddenly they came upon a Huron cafnp-fire and 
two canoes. Another and then another canoe 
appeared. 

The trackers would not give up and go back. 
They decided to push on and run the “gantlet,” as 
the Indians call it. 

They paddled, and turned, and dodged, and 
twisted, not firing a shot while they were out of the 
reach of the Hurons, although Hawkeye’s trusty 
rifle, Killdeer, could have reached the enemy. 

The pursuing Hurons soon knew whom they 
were chasing. “The Big Serpent!” “The Long 
Carbine!” “The Bounding Elk!” they' shouted, 
giving the names by which they knew Chingach- 
gook, Hawkeye, and Uncas. 

For reply Hawkeye simply shook Killdeer at his 
pursuers in mockery, and the canoe darted on amid 
another shower of Huron bullets. 

Nearer and nearer came the Hurons; a bullet 
struck the paddle in the hands of Hawkeye. 

“That will do,” said the scout. “Now we’ll 
answer. Major Heyward, if you will take the 
paddle, I will let Killdeer do the talking.” 

With that he passed his paddle to Duncan, and 
with quick aim knocked over the Huron who 
was in the bow of the leading canoe. The Hu- 
rons stopped a moment, and the Mohicans spun 
ahead. 

They left their pursuers far behind, and, getting 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 69 

into the widest part of the lake, paddled almost to 
its northern end in safety. 

With eyes on the ground and the bushes, they 
studied out the trail; for scouts, and trappers, and 
Indians can read the leaves and twigs and grass as 
you would the pages of a book. 

So, step by step, they followed the trail that 
Uncas had found, until at last Hawkeye stopped 
and began to look around. 

“ I scent the Hurons, ” he said. “ They are near 
here somewhere. ” 

Dividing the party, he sent them in different 
directions to find the Indian encampment. 

As Duncan followed on the path that Hawkeye 
had given him, suddenly he came upon a curious 
figure^ It was stained and befeathered like an 
Indian, and yet didn’t seem to be one. Duncan 
was still wondering whether to signal his com- 
panions, when Hawkeye stepped beside him. As 
soon as he saw the figure he aimed his rifle; then 
he put it down. 

“It is not a Huron, nor any of the Canada 
tribes,” he said, “but he is dressed as if he had 
been plundering a white man — the rascal.” 

Then he drew toward the strange figure, either 
to kill or capture it. He lifted his hand as if to 
strike. Then Duncan, who was anxiously watch- 
ing the hunter, saw him shake with silent laughter. 

The strange Indian was the poor, half-foolish 
singing-master. 

He told them that the girls were well, though 
they were no longer together; they were kept 


70 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


safely, but securely, by their Indian captors — Cora 
in the lodge of a tribe in the mountains, and Alice 
in the village of the Hurons, about two miles away. 

“Ah,” said Heyward, “how lonely my poor 
Alice must be, separated from her dear sister. ” 

“She is,” said the singing-master, “but I have 
tried to cheer her up with song. ” 

“Song! Why, can the poor girl sing here, a 
captive among these blood-thirsty savages?” 
asked Heyward. 

The singing-master, whose name, it should be 
said, was David Gamut, told the young man that, 
of course, Alice was sad, and that she cried more 
than she smiled; but he said that she sometimes 
would sing hymns with him, and even the Indians 
were surprised at the beauty of their songs. 

“ But do they let you go about like this ?” asked 
Heyward. 

“They do,” David replied. “I suppose my 
music does them so much good that they love to 
hear my voice, and let me come and go as I please.” 

Hawkeye smiled, and looking at Heyward 
nodded toward David and tapped his own fore- 
head with his fingers. 

By this he meant that David Gamut was not 
just right in his head, and that the Indians, who 
never harm a crazy man or one who is half-witted, 
did not stop David in his coming and going. 

Then Heyward and Hawkeye got David to tell 
them the whole story of his and the sisters’ captivity, 
and what the Fox had done to throw pursuers off 
the track and get his captives to a place of safety. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 71 

David told them of the tribe with whom Cora had 
been placed. He did not think they were Hurons, 
but he knew that they were somewhat friendly with 
the Fox’s tribe, which had encamped so near them. 

The two Mohicans and Hawkeye listened care- 
fully to David’s story. 

“ What is the totem of these people ?” asked the 
scout. 

“I don’t know what their totem is. But I have 
seen strange images painted about, which they 
seem to take pride in — one especially, a foul and 
horrid beast.” 

“ A serpent ?” asked Hawkeye, quickly. 

“No; but another low and creeping thing,” 
David answered; “a tortoise.” 

“Ugh!” broke out both the Mohicans, while 
Hawkeye nodded thoughtfully. 

Then the two Indians talked together earnestly 
in their own language, and Chingachgook, opening 
his mantle, showed, worked upon his breast in 
blue, the figure of a tortoise. 

At last Hawkeye spoke. He told Colonel 
Munro and Heyward that the totem of the Indians 
was the mark of certain families of redskins, and 
that those with the same mark were brothers, 
pledged to help each other, even though they 
belonged to different tribes. The sagamore, 
Chingachgook, he told them, was of the Delaware 
blood, though of the Mohican tribe, and was the 
great chief of the Tortoise family, or totem. 

“Those with whom the lady, Cora, is placed, are 
some of those of the Tortoise clan,” he added. 


72 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“ Perhaps we may work upon them and set the girl 
free; perhaps not. But we can try, though the 
way is a hard and dangerous one. For, you see, 
there has been a long quarrel between even these 
brothers of the Tortoise clan, and the tomahawks 
of the Delaware are against those of the Mohican.” 

They talked long of what they might do to rescue 
the sisters. Heyward even declared himself ready 
to rush into the Indian camp and carry Alice away 
by force. But Hawkeye showed him how foolish 
and impossible this was, and said that it was much 
the best way to have David go back as if nothing 
had happened, though he could let the girls know 
that help was near. Then, when the rescuers 
made a signal like the cry of the bird called the 
whip-poor-will, David was to come into the woods. 

But here Heyward broke in. He, too, would go 
with David, he declared. “Fix me up to look like 
a fool or a mad fellow, and I will go. I will do 
everything I can to save my dear Alice. ” 

Hawkeye tried to stop him, but it was no use. 
The young man was determined to go. 

“Fix me -up,” he said; “disguise me, paint me, 
make me anything you choose, but go I will. 
David says the Indians are of different tribes; you 
say they may be of different clans. Cora is with 
the new people. Alice is with the Hurons. You 
may work as you please to release Cora; I will go 
myself into the Huron camp and rescue Alice, or 
die . 99 

When Hawkeye saw how brave and determined 
young Heyward was, he did not try to hold him 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 73 


back any longer, but, instead, did what he could 
to help him. 

“The sagamore,” he said, pointing to Chingach- 
gook, “has as many paints as a picture-man. He 
can use them, too. Sit down on this log. He can 
make a fool or a crazy fellow of you so well that 
you will not know yourself. ” 

So Heyward sat down, and Chingachgook set 
to work to disguise him by painting. This he did 
so well that when he was through Heyward’s face 
looked like that of some simple traveling juggler 
rather than that of a soldier of the king. His 
uniform he had already exchanged for a suit of 
buckskin. 

When all was ready, Heyward bade Colonel 
Munro an affectionate good-by, and promised to 
rescue his dear youngest daughter or die in the 
attempt. 

Hawkeye then led Heyward aside and told him 
how to act. He said that he should leave Colonel 
Munro and Chingachgook together while he and 
Uncas tried to get at Cora among the Hurons. 

“And now,” he said, taking the young soldier 
by the hand, “good-by and God bless you. You 
have pluck and spirit, a stout heart and a true one. 
Be careful. You will need to be as sharp as a 
needle if you are to get the best of a Mingo. You 
are good and true, but to get the better of a Mingo 
you may have to do things that a white man and a 
soldier would not think of doing.” 

Then Heyward and David left him, and the 
scout, looking after the brave young man in open 


74 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


admiration, slowly shook his head, and then, 
turning, disappeared with his companions in the 
forest. 

After walking about half an hour, David and 
Heyward came suddenly upon a lot of Indian boys. 
When the boys saw the newcomers they dis- 
appeared with a yell, but their cry brought some of 
the older Indians from their lodges, and Duncan 
Heyward had to put on the air of his make-believe 
character. 

He followed David into the lodge. It was the 
council-house of the tribe, and was built of bark 
and branches. Within were many old men and 
warriors, and a flaring torch cast its red glare upon 
the faces and figures of this savage throng, who sat 
about silently as David and Heyward entered and 
seated themselves upon the pile of brush that each 
man brought for himself from a great pile in the 
lodge. They sat long in silence; but at last one 
of the older warriors spoke, and to him Heyward 
explained that he was a doctor — what the Indians 
call a medicine-man — sent by the French governor 
to his red brothers, the Hurons of the Great Lakes, 
far to the westward of that place, to see if any were 
sick and needed healing. 

“But why are you painted ?” the chief asked. 
“We have heard that our white brothers boast that 
their faces are pale. ” 

This was a sharp question, but Heyward was 
quick with an answer. 

“When an Indian chief comes among his white 
fathers,” the young man replied, with steady and 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 75 


quiet voice, “he lays aside his buffalo robe to wear 
the shirt that is given him. My red brothers have 
given me paint and I wear it.” 

This was a ready and sensible answer, and the 
Indians gave the gesture and grunt of pleasure. 
Heyward thought his way would now be easy, 
when suddenly a long, high, shrill war-whoop 
startled all the lodge and sent all the warriors 
flocking through the door. Outside the encamp- 
ment was alive, men, women, and children, old as 
well as young, making a great hullabaloo, as if 
welcoming with pleasure some unexpected event. 
Heyward went out with David to see what it was 
all about. 

It was the return of a war party, and with them 
came a prisoner. The squaws and boys gathered 
about him and began to taunt and plague him with 
insulting words, trying to make him angry. But 
he never said a word. 

And as he stood there, unconcerned and 
haughty, caring nothing for the words and laughter 
and insults of his tormentors, leaning carelessly 
and quietly against the safety post, his face was 
suddenly turned toward a strong and blazing light, 
and then Heyward recognized the captive. It was 
Uncas, the Mohican. 

As he looked upon the young Indian in surprise 
and amazement, wondering how he came to be a 
prisoner in the power of the Hurons, a warrior 
came forward, and, driving back the yelling 
women and children^ took Uncas by the arm and 
led him into the council-lodge. 


76 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


There all the chiefs and warriors followed; 
Heyward entered also, and no one stopped him. 

In the midst of his captors Uncas still stood 
calm and collected. Even his Huron foemen 
admired his courage. 

" Delaware,” said one of the principal chiefs, 
addressing Uncas, " though of a nation of women, 
you have shown yourself a man. I would give 
you food, but he who eats with a Huron is his 
friend. You are our foe. Rest here in peace until 
the morning. Then you die.” 

" Seven nights and as many days have I fasted on 
the trail of the Huron,” said Uncas. "I can 
travel the path of death without waiting to eat.” 

"Two of my young men are in pursuit of your 
companion,” said the chief; "when they return, 
then will our wise men say to you, live or die.” 

"Your young men will never get back,” said 
Uncas. "Twice has your prisoner heard a gun 
that he knows. A Huron has no ears to hear that 
sound. ” 

Heyward knew who Uncas meant — he had 
heard the gun of Hawkeye. 

"If your tribe are so skilful, why are you, one of 
the bravest, here ?” 

"I was trapped by a flying coward, not taken 
like a man, in open fight,” said Uncas. "Even 
the cunning beaver may be caught, if he falls into 
the snare.” 

The torches died out; the throng of warriors 
departed; but Heyward was able to get near Uncas 
and to hear him say: 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 77 


“The Hurons are dogs. The Gray Head” (by 
which he meant Colonel Munro) “and the saga- 
more are safe. Go! We are strangers. I have 
said enough.” 

Heyward would have heard more, but Uncas 
quietly forced him out of danger, and he slowly 
left the lodge and mingled with the dusky forms 
without. But still, as the lights would flicker up, 
he could see within the lodge the upright figure of 
the Mohican, Uncas. 

Heyward wandered among the lodges, trying to 
find some sign or trace of the lost Alice, while, 
at the same time, he worried about the fate of 
Uncas. 

Straying from hut to hut, only to meet with 
fresh disappointments, he walked around the 
whole Indian village, and so came back again to 
the council-lodge, where the warriors were again 
assembled, smoking the pipe of council. 

Hoping to find David, the singing-master, Hey- 
ward entered the council-lodge; but the “non- 
compuser,”* as Hawk eye called the poor David, 
was not there. Uncas still stood under guard, like 
some firm statue rather than a living man. 

Suddenly the doorway of the lodge was darkened 
by the form of a tall and powerful warrior. He 
entered, and, as he seated himself upon the same 
brush heap with Heyward, the young soldier felt 
his heart drop with horror. The newcomer was 
his bitter enemy, the Sly-Fox. 

* This is Hawkeye’s way of using the expression “ non - 
compos mentis ” a Latin term for a person of feeble mind. 


78 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Pipes were relighted, and for ten minutes no 
word was spoken. All smoked in silence. 

Then one of the chiefs told of the capture of the 
Mohican, or the Delaware, as the Hurons called 
him, and pointed at the silent Uncas. 

The Fox looked at the young Mohican. As 
their eyes met, the form of Uncas dilated; his 
nostrils opened like those of a tiger at bay; but 
still he stood unmoved. But, upon the face of the 
Fox, came a look of fierce joy; he gave a great 
breath of satisfaction, and with that came the 
words : 

“The Elk; it is the Bounding Elk. ,, 

As the Hurons recognized the name of their 
bitterest enemy, and knew that Uncas was in their 
power, they started to their feet, and repeated his 
name in surprise; outside, the women and children 
hearing the name, echoed it with a shrill howl of joy. 

Uncas enjoyed his victory, but made no sign 
beyond the quiet smile of scorn. But the Fox had 
seen that smile, and, raising his arm, shook it at the 
captive until its silver ornaments rattled in his 
excitement. 

“Mohican, you die!” he cried. Then to the 
other Indians he said: 

“Go! Take him where there is silence. Let 
us see if a Delaware can sleep at night, and in the 
morning die. ” 

The warriors on guard led their prisoner away, 
but as he passed from the lodge the eye of Uncas 
caught that of Heyward, and in it the young 
soldier read, “Hope.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 79 

The Fox, too, left the lodge. The other 
warriors fell to smoking once more, and after a 
half-hour or so the chief arose, and, beckoning to 
the supposed physician, passed out into the 
evening, followed by Heyward. 

They turned aside from the Indian encampment 
and walked toward the mountain. A winding 
path led through the low brushwood, while the 
bonfires, made by the Indian boys at play, lighted 
up the scene in fitful flashes. 

One of these streams of light fell across their 
path, and, lighting up the whole face of the moun- 
tain, disclosed a dark and mysterious-looking 
object in the path before them. 

As they paused, it arose. The large, black ball 
began to sway to and fro before them, and at length 
Heyward discovered, from its actions and its 
growls, that it was a bear; but not a bear bent on 
their destruction. It appeared more like a tamed 
animal — the pet or companion of some Indian con- 
juror or medicine man, as was often the case. 

The Huron saw this, and proceeded; but Hey- 
ward was not used to such monsters, and he passed 
the beast in some uncertainty. When, however, 
they had pushed past the bear, the monster rose, 
and swung along in the path behind them. 

Heyward was uneasy at this, but just then his 
Indian conductor pushed aside a door of bark, and 
the young soldier, following, entered a cavern in 
the bosom of the mountain. 

The bear was right on their heels, and came into 
the cavern behind them. They were now in a 


8o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


straight and long gallery in a chasm of the rocks 
where retreat would bring them right against the 
big bear. It was not a pleasant situation, but 
Heyward made the best of it, and kept as closely as 
possible to his conductor. The bear growled at 
his heels, and once or twice pressed against him, 
as if to push him out of the den. 

Soon a glimmer of light appeared before them, 
and they entered a large cavity in the rock, which 
had been divided by stone, sticks, and bark into 
numerous rooms. 

Into one of these the Huron led young Heyward, 
and there he found a sick woman, surrounded by 
squaws, and in the center of them his friend David. 

He saw at once that the woman was too sick to 
live. But while he wondered what he could do to 
carry out his make-believe part of a doctor, David 
was before him. The half-witted singing-master, 
believing that music could cure everything, began 
singing a hymn. The Indians, who never inter- 
fere with the actions of a crazy man, did not stop 
him, and Heyward was glad of the chance to think 
out what he should do. 

But as the last sound of the song died away, the 
young soldier was surprised at hearing the strains 
repeated, he almost thought sung, behind him. 
Turning, he saw crouched near him in a corner of 
the cabin, and swinging restlessly from side to side, 
the shaggy monster of the bear that had followed 
him into the cave. 

At the sound, David stopped in surprise. He 
looked at the bear; he looked at Heyward; and 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 81 


then, saying, “She expects you and is near you,” 
he rushed from the cavern. 

After David had gone, Heyward sat surprised 
and puzzled, while the bear still moved restlessly 
to and fro. 

But the Huron chief, who had brought the 
young soldier to the sick-room, sent the squaws 
out of the apartment, and, pointing at the sick 
girl, said, “Now let my brother show his power.” 

Heyward was puzzled, and yet knew that he 
must do something without delay if he was to play 
the doctor as he had intended. Just what he 
would have done, he could not say; but the bear, 
as if to interrupt him, kept growling and moving 
more savagely than ever. 

The Huron chief looked at the beast. 

“The cunning spirits are jealous,” he said. “I 
go, brother; deal justly by this sick one. Peace,” 
he added, beckoning to the restless bear; “I go.” 

He left the cavern, and Heyward was alone in 
that wild and desolate place with a dying woman 
and a dangerous bear. But when the Indian was 
far away and all was still, suddenly the bear’s 
actions changed. Instead of growling angrily and 
moving restlessly about, his whole shaggy body 
shook violently, as if some odd thoughts were dis- 
turbing him. He stood erect; the huge claws 
pawed clumsily about his head; then the huge 
head itself fell back, and out of the skin appeared 
the honest, sturdy, silently laughing countenance 
of Hawkeye, the scout. 

Heyward was speechless with surprise. 


82 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“Hist!” said the scout. “Be quiet. Any 
sound will bring the varlets back. ” 

“What does this mean ?” whispered the soldier. 

“Where is Uncas ?” asked Hawk eye. 

“A captive,” Heyward answered. “He dies in 
the morning. ” 

“I feared so,” the scout said sadly. “We fell in 
with the war party and he was taken. He was too 
hot on the trail and fell into the trap. I followed 
after, and had a scrimmage or two with the Hurons 
until I came almost into their camp. Then, what 
should I do but happen upon one of their medicine- 
men, dressing up in this bearskin to go through 
some of his mummeries. I straightened him out 
with a rap on the head, left him with a gag in his 
mouth, and, crawling into the skin, played the 
bear so as to get in near to Uncas and to you. 
Where is the lady ?” 

“I do not know,” answered Heyward, dis- 
consolately. “I have searched every lodge, but 
have found no trace of her. ” 

“You heard what the singing man said,” 
remarked Hawkeye. “ ‘She expects you, and is 
nigh you/ he said. ” 

“Yes; but I thought he meant this sick woman, 
whom I can do nothing for,” Heyward answered. 

“No, no; the simpleton meant more, I know,” 
said Hawkeye. “See, here are walls. Walls are 
for a bear to climb. There may be honey hid in 
those rocks.” 

So, laughing at his own joke, the scout, still in 
the bearskin, climbed to the top of the rocky wall; 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 83 


but no sooner was he up than he slipped down 
again. 

“She is here,” he whispered. “By that door 
you will find her. I would have spoken to her, 
but I was afraid a monster like me would disturb 
her.” 

Heyward speedily cleared the paint from his 
face in order not to alarm Alice by his appearance, 
and hurried along the passage shown him by 
Hawkeye. The scout, left alone, searched about 
to see what provisions the Hurons had that he 
could draw upon, if needed; for this cavern was 
one of their storehouses. 

Heyward followed the passage and finally found 
Alice in an apartment full of the things which the 
Indians had brought from the captured Fort. 
She was hoping to see him, for David had told her 
he was near. 

Alice was overjoyed to see Duncan Heyward 
once more. She felt sure that he would soon, 
somehow, get her out of that terrible place. They 
talked long and earnestly together, but just as 
Heyward was telling Alice how much he thought of 
her and what he would do for her, he felt a tap on 
his shoulder, and, looking up, saw the mocking 
face of the Fox looking down at them. 

He laughed wickedly as Heyward looked about 
for some weapon to attack him and found none. 

“The palefaces trap the cunning beavers,” said 
the Huron, “but the redskin knows how to take 
the paleface.” 

“Huron, do your worst!” cried Heyward, never 


84 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


thinking what that worst might mean — a death 
at the stake for both the captives. “I despise 
you.” 

“Will the white man say that at the stake ?” the 
Fox said. 

“Here, to your face, or before all your tribe,” 
cried the soldier^ 

“The Sly Fox is a great chief,” returned the 
Indian “He will go and bring his young men, to 
let them see whether a paleface can laugh at tor- 
ture.” 

He turned to go, when right in his path rose the 
figure of a great bear. Hawkeye was on his trail. 

As the bear, standing upon its legs, beat the air 
with its paws, the Huron motioned it aside im- 
patiently. 

“Fool!” he said, “go play with children and 
squaws. Leave men to their wisdom.” 

But, as he tried to pass the bear, the beast thrust 
out its paws and caught the Indian in a grasp 
stronger than any “bear’s hug” could be. 

Heyward let go of Alice, whom he had caught 
to save her from the wrath of the Indian, and 
watched the struggle breathlessly. But when he 
saw the Huron’s arms pinned *to his side by the 
strength of the powerful muscles of the scout, he 
caught up a buckskin thong and wound it all about 
the legs, arms, and feet of the Fox, until their 
enemy was securely bound in twenty folds of the 
thong. Then Hawkeye released his hold on the 
Indian and Heyward threw him to the ground. 
Then the scout put a gag in the Indian’s mouth, so 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 85 

that he could not call for help, and then told Hey- 
ward to take Alice quickly and follow him out into 
the woods. 

Heyward did as he was told, and, with Alice in 
his arms, passed out of the apartment. They 
looked in at the sick Indian woman. She still lay 
in the same quiet condition. As they came near 
the door of the cavern they heard voices outside. 
It was the friends of the sick woman waiting until 
the medicine-man should tell them to come in. 

“You talk, Major,” said the scout. “Tell ’em 
we have shut up the evil spirit in the cave, and are 
taking the sick woman to the woods for strengthen- 
ing herbs and roots. Be shrewd and cunning. ” 

Then the scout became the bear once more, and 
they came into the air. 

Then Hawkeye and Heyward, carrying the 
silent Alice, passed into the woods. 

When Alice had recovered, and the three had 
walked far from the Indian village, Hawkeye told 
them what to do. 

“We can not escape this way,” he said. “The 
Hurons will be on our trail before we have gone a 
dozen miles. Your only hope is the village of the 
other people, where this lady’s sister is held. If 
they are true Delawares, you will be safe from the 
Hurons. Follow this brook, and climb the hill, 
and you will see their camp-fires. Go, now, and 
Heaven be with you!” 

“ But you ?” cried Heyward. “What shall you 
do?” 

“Uncas is with the Hurons,” the scout replied. 


86 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“The last of the high blood of the Mohicans is in 
their power. I must go to him. If he dies, I will 
die in his defense. ,, 

They begged him not to go, but it was useless; 
he was determined. 

“I taught the boy how to use the rifle,” he said. 
“I have fought by his side in many a bloody scrim- 
mage, and so long as I could hear the crack of his 
piece in one ear and that of his father, the sagamore, 
in the other, I knew no enemy was on my back. 
Winters and summers, nights and days, have we 
roved the wilderness together, eating of the same 
dish, one sleeping while the other watched, and I 
tell you Uncas shall not be carried to torture with- 
out my being at hand.” 

Then he turned and walked back toward the 
Huron lodges, while Heyward and Alice, after 
mournfully watching his departure, went forward 
on their way to the village of the Delawares. 

Slowly and thoughtfully Hawk eye walked back 
to the Huron encampment. There he found 
David Gamut in his lodge, and made himself 
known, greatly to the surprise of the singing- 
master, for Hawkeye still wore his bearskin. 

“Where is Uncas?” demanded Hawkeye, 
thrusting his head out of the bearskin. 

“A captive, and doomed to death,” replied 
David, sadly. 

“Can you lead me to him ?” asked Hawkeye. 

“I can; but what good will it do you or him ?” 
inquired David. 

But Hawkeye told him to go ahead; and, cov- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 87 

ering his head again with the bearskin, followed 
David from his hut. 

As they walked, Hawkeye learned from David 
that, because of his supposed foolishness, the sing- 
ing-master was allowed to visit Uncas whenever he 
desired. He had also talked and sung with one of 
the Mohican’s guards, and, as an Indian likes such 
attention, the Huron guard let the crazy singing- 
master do about as he pleased. When Hawkeye 
had found all this out, he carefully laid his plans so 
as to use David to help out the scheme he had 
thought out for the help of Uncas. 

As the two approached the lodge in which Uncas, 
the Mohican, was kept prisoner, Hawkeye did not 
try to hide from the Indians. He knew that they 
supposed the figure in the bearskin to be one of 
their wise conjurors or medicine-men, and that 
they thought he and the foolish singing-master were 
to take part in some mysterious actions with the 
captive. 

The Indians drew aside from the lodge door, 
and David and Hawkeye entered. 

In a distant corner of the silent and gloomy room 
they saw Uncas, lying down and bound hand and 
foot. Hawkeye told David to stay by the door and 
keep out the curious Hurons, while he, wrapped in 
the bearskin, approached the Mohican. 

The young Indian did not even look up at the 
disguised scout. He supposed that the Hurons 
had sent the animal in to annoy or frighten him, 
and he would not betray the least sign or movement 
of interest. 


88 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Then the supposed bear began to growl and 
dance, and as he did so Uncas saw that there was 
something not just right in the actions of the brute. 
But he looked all the more contemptuously and 
scornfully upon the false bear, and, leaning against 
the wall, shut his eyes as if he wished not to see so 
disagreeable and foolish a sight. 

At that instant there came from David the signal 
arranged by Hawkeye — the low hissing of a snake. 

Uncas rose to his feet as soon as he heard the 
sound. He bent his head and looked cautiously 
around until once more he gazed upon the shaggy 
hide of the bear. As he did so, out of the bear’s 
mouth came the same hissing sound as of the 
snake. 

, Then Uncas said low but deeply : 

“ Hawkeye!” 

As he spoke David came toward him. 

“Cut his bands,” said Hawkeye. 

The singing-master did as he was told, and 
Uncas, relieved of his bonds, stood erect and free. 
At the same moment Hawkeye dropped from him 
the bearskin. 

“Put on the skin, Uncas,” he said, “you can 
play the bear as well as I. ” 

Uncas silently slipped into the skin, while 
Hawkeye, turning to the singing-master, said : 

“Now, friend David, you won’t mind an 
exchange of garments. T ake my hunting-cap and 
shirt; give me your blanket and hat. Let me 
have your book and spectacles, too. If ever we 
meet again, you shall have them back.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 89 

The singing-master made the exchange without 
objection, and Hawkeye appeared in David’s 
clothes and glasses. 

“When the Hurons find you here in place of 
Uncas,” said Hawkeye, “though they will at first 
be angry, they will remember that you are a non- 
compuser, and will not harm you. But if you 
wish to take the chances with us, do so. Which 
will you do — make the rush, or stay quietly here ?” 

“I will stay,” replied David. “The young 
Delaware has battled bravely for me. This and 
more will I brave for him.” 

“Spoken like a man, and a brave one, friend 
David,” said Hawkeye. “Lie still, keep silent; 
but when you must speak, break out at once in 
singing. That will tell the Indians what and who 
you are. Farewell, and God bless you. You are 
a good and brave man,” and shaking the singing- 
master warmly by the hand, he left the lodge with 
Uncas dressed as the bear. 

Hawkeye drew himself up to look like the sing- 
ing-master, and, keeping time with his hand, 
began to sing one of David’s hymns. As he drew 
near the Indians he sang louder and more vigor- 
ously, but the Hurons stopped him. 

“Is the Delaware dog afraid ?” asked an Indian. 
“Will the Hurons hear his groans and whines?” 

The bear growled so savagely that the Indian 
dropped his hold on the scout and eyed the brute, 
uncertain whether it were bear or man. Hawkeye 
burst out into a new and louder song, and the 
Indians, remembering that the singer was a crazy 


9 o 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


man, drew back and let both him and his com- 
panion pass. 

Slowly and calmly Uncas and Hawkeye passed 
through the encampment. They saw the Indians 
cautiously approach the hut where the supposed 
Uncas lay; but no one entered yet, for fear of the 
spell put on the captive, and at last, through the 
darkness, the two got clear of the village. 

Then they began to run toward the forest. As 
they did so, they heard a long, loud cry from the 
lodge in which Uncas had been confined. 

Uncas dropped his bearskin. 

Another chorus of cries came to their ears. 

Hawkeye rushed on, and presently drew from 
the bushes two rifles, with powder- and shot-bags. 

“Here is your weapon, Uncas,” he said, “and 
here is Killdeer. Now let them follow if they 
dare. ” 

And throwing their rifles to a low trail, like 
hunters ready for a shot, they dashed forward, and 
were soon deep in the darkness of the forest. 

As for David, when the Hurons discovered that 
it was he, instead of Uncas, in the lodge, he 
expected, from their cry of surprise and rage, that 
they would surely kill him. But, remembering 
Hawkeye’s advice, he broke out into song, and, as 
fitting his own death, chose a funeral hymn. 

The Indians, hearing this, remembered that poor 
David was not all right in his head, and, leaving 
him alone, they rushed into the air to arouse the 
village and track the fugitives. It was not long 
before they found the Fox gagged and bound. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 91 


“ An evil spirit has been among us,” said one of 
the Hurons, “and the Delaware has blinded our 
eyes.” 

“An evil spirit?” cried the Fox. “Yes, evil. 
It is he who has taken so many Huron scalps. It 
is he who bound the arms of the Fox.” 

“Who is it ?” asked several voices. 

“It is the dog who carries the heart and cunning 
of a Huron under a pale skin — the Long Carbine!” 

At the sound of the feared and hated Indian 
name of Hawkeye, the scout, every warrior sprang 
to his feet, and when it was understood that this 
daring foeman had been not only in their encamp- 
ment but within their grasp, all the Hurons were 
frantic with rage. But, with the usual restraint of 
the red man, they speedily became quiet again, and 
returned with the Fox to the council-lodge. Here 
he told the assembled warriors how they had been 
insulted, and disgraced by these “dogs of pale- 
faces.” 

At once all were bent on revenge; a long con- 
sultation followed; and before daylight, next 
morning, the Huron Fox, and twenty picked 
warriors, armed with rifles but without their 
hideous war-paint, left the encampment, and in 
Indian file — that is, one by one — walked along the 
trail that led to the village of the Tortoises, where 
Cora had been sent, and where Heyward and Alice 
had fled for refuge. These Tortoises were a half- 
tribe of the Delawares, which, in years before, had 
separated from the body of the nation, and, 
migrating far to the North, had lived in enmity 


92 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


with their former brethren, and generally in sym- 
pathy with the Hurons. They were, however, 
rather quiet in the present contest, and were 
treated by the Hurons with great consideration in 
the hope of winning their active help. 

There was excitement in the lodges of the Dela- 
wares, for among them had come both guests and 
captives. These were housed in a large lodge in 
the center of the village, and already the chiefs 
were in consultation as to how they should be 
treated. 

Among the Indians there was a great respect for 
hospitality. A guest in a camp or village was 
sacred. He could not be harmed even by an 
enemy, nor be troubled in any way. If an Indian 
said “You are welcome,” the person so welcomed 
became a guest whose safety was the Indian’s care, 
and whom he would let no one molest or take 
away. 

Hawkeye knew this, and when he sent Heyward 
and Alice there, when he went there himself, 
although they presented themselves as prisoners, 
they also claimed the rights of hospitality, because 
they had gone into the Delaware village of their 
own accord and not as captured prisoners. So 
they felt safe. 

As for Cora, she had been taken as a prisoner to 
the Delawares by the Huron Fox. They had 
promised to keep her safely, but she must be given 
up to the Fox whenever he came or sent for her. 

The Huron knew this, but his revenge was not 
satisfied with one victim; he desired to strike all 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 93 

who were against him, and it was with some plan of 
this sort in his mind that he sought the Delaware 
village. 

He reached it during the consultation of the 
chiefs. He entered it without war-paint, as a 
friend asking hospitality; and, though the Dela- 
wares feared and disliked him, they could not act 
against one who had accepted the hospitality of 
their tribe. 

The Delawares welcomed the Huron with 
courtesy, and, after a breakfast had been offered 
him, the Fox asked the Delawares if his prisoner, 
Cora, had given them any trouble. 

“She is welcome,” they replied. 

“If she gives any trouble to my brothers,” said 
the Fox, “let her be sent to my squaws. The 
path between the Huron and the Delaware is 
open.’’ 

But the only reply was, “She is welcome/’ 

“I have brought gifts to my brother,” said the 
Fox. “His nation would not go on the war-path, 
because they did not think it well: but their 
friends have remembered where they live.” 

When he had thus announced his liberal in- 
tention, the crafty chief arose and gravely spread 
his presents before the dazzled eyes of his hosts. 
They consisted principally of trinkets of little 
value, plundered from the slaughtered women of 
the captured Fort. In the division of the baubles 
the cunning Huron discovered no less art than in 
their selection. While he bestowed those of 
greater value on the two most distinguished 


94 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


warriors, he gave to those of less note compliments 
as well as presents, and so won all to him. 

The Delawares became less cautious and cold, 
after the gifts and words of the Fox had flattered 
them, and their chief said to their visitor: 

“My brother is a wise chief. He is welcome. ” 

“The Hurons love their friends, the Delawares,” 
said the Sly Fox, “and why should they not ? The 
redskins should be friends, and use their eyes, 
together, to watch the white men. Has not my 
brother scented spies in the woods ?” 

The Delaware chief, whose Indian name meant 
“The Hard Heart,” forgot the sternness that gave 
him the name. He grew friendly. 

“There have been strange moccasins about my 
camp,” he said. “They have been tracked into 
my lodges.” 

“Did not my brother beat out the dogs ?” asked 
the Fox, who now knew that those he sought were 
there. 

“It would not do,” answered Hard Heart. 
“The stranger is always welcome to the Delaware.” 

“Yes, the stranger is,” said the Fox, “but not 
the spy. ” 

“The English have sent out their scouts,” 
said the Fox. “They have been in my wigwams, 
but they found there no one to say welcome. 
Then they fled to the Delawares — ‘For/ say they, 
‘the Delawares are our friends; their minds are 
turned from their French father/ ” 

The Delawares felt this word. For in the war 
between France and England they had taken no 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 95 

side, although their villages were, some of them, 
in the F rench country of Canada. But they would 
not admit that they had deserted the French. 

“Let my father look in my face,” said Hard 
Heart; “he will see no change. It is true, my 
young men did not go out on the war-path; they 
had dreams for not doing so. But they love and 
venerate the great French chief.” 

“Will he think so when he hears that his greatest 
enemy is fed in the camp of his children ? when he 
is told a bloody Englishman smokes at your fire ? 
that the paleface who has slain so many of his 
friends goes in and out among the Delawares ? 
Go ! My great F rench father is not a fool ! ” 

“Where is the Englishman that the Delawares 
fear?” returned the other. “Who has slain my 
young men ? Who is the mortal enemy of my 
Great Father ?” 

“The Long Carbine!” 

The Delaware warriors started at the well- 
known name of Hawkeye, the scout, betraying by 
their amazement that they now learned for the 
first time that one so dangerous to the Indian allies 
of France was within their power. 

“What does my brother mean?” demanded 
Hard Heart, in a tone that, by its wonder, far 
exceeded the usual calm, self-controlled manner 
of his race. 

“A Huron never lies,” returned the Fox coldly, 
leaning his head against the side of the lodge and 
drawing his slight robe across his tawny breast. 
“Let the Delawares count their prisoners; they 


96 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


will find one whose skin is neither red nor 
pale” 

A long and thoughtful pause succeeded. The 
chief consulted apart with his companions, and 
messengers were dispatched to collect certain 
others of the most distinguished men of the tribe. 

The council of the Delawares was short. It was 
followed bya general assemblageof thewhole tribe. 
The warriors began to collect in front of the 
encampment, and there the Fox went also, to see 
what would be done. 

In a half-hour all the tribe, including even the 
women and children, were in the place of meeting. 
The morning sun, just climbing above the moun- 
tain tops, lighted up the scene. Fully a thousand 
Indians of the Delaware nation were now in 
assembly. 

But so important a gathering only the oldest 
and most experienced chieftain could control. No 
one moved. All seemed to be waiting for one 
particular person to preside, and the looks of the 
whole throng seemed fixed upon a particular lodge, 
that was protected from the weather more care- 
fully than any other. 

Suddenly the door of this lodge parted, and 
every man, woman, and child rose from the ground 
and stood waiting. 

Three old men came from the lodge; but one 
was very, very old. His form seemed bent with 
the weight of a hundred years and more. His 
dark, wrinkled countenance was in singular con- 
trast with the long, white locks which floated on 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 97 

his shoulders, long, thick, and massive, as if it 
had been generations since his hair had been 
cut. 

The dress of this patriarch was rich and impos- 
ing, though strictly after the simple fashions of 
the tribe. His robe was of the finest skins, from 
which the fur had been taken in order to admit of a 
figured representation of various deeds in arms 
done in former years. His bosom was loaded with 
medals, some in massive silver, and one or two even 
in gold, gifts of various Christian rulers during the 
long period of his life. So soon as the first hum 
of excitement and pleasure which the sudden 
appearance of this venerated individual created 
had a little subsided, the name of “Tamenund” 
was whispered from mouth to mouth. The Huron, 
Fox, had often heard the fame of this wise and 
just Delaware — a reputation that even proceeded 
so far as to bestow on him the rare gift of holding 
secret communion with the Great Spirit, and 
which has since brought over his name, with some 
slight alteration, to the white possessors of his 
ancient territory, under the name of “ Tammany,” 
the saint and sachem of the New York Indians. 

The Huron chief therefore, stepped eagerly out 
a little from the throng, to a spot whence he might 
catch a nearer glimpse of the features of the man 
whose decision was likely to produce so deep an 
influence on his own fortunes. 

The old man’s eyes were closed as he passed 
the Huron, and, leaning upon his two aged 
assistants, he walked slowly to the chief seat of 


7 


9 8 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


council, and seated himself, like a father, in the' 
center of his nation. 

Then several of the younger warriors, at the 
command of a chief, left the crowd and went to 
the lodge in which the white prisoner-guests were 
kept. 

In a few moments they returned, and with them 
came the prisoners who were the cause of all this 
stir and consultation of a nation — the sisters, Cora 
and Alice, Heyward, the soldier, and Hawkeye, 
the scout. 

Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, 
entwining her arms in those of Alice in the tender- 
ness of sisterly love. Notwithstanding the fearful 
and threatening array of savages on every side of 
her, no fear on her own account could prevent the 
noble-minded maiden from keeping her eyes 
fastened on the pale and anxious features of the 
trembling Alice. Close at their side stood Hey- 
ward, with an interest in both at this moment of 
intense uncertainty. Hawkeye had placed him- 
self a little in the rear. Uncas was not there. 

When perfect silence was again restored, and 
after the usual long, impressive pause, one of the 
two aged chiefs who sat at the side of the patriarch 
arose, and demanded aloud, in very intelligible 
English, “Which of my prisoners is the Long 
Carbine ?” 

Neither Duncan nor the scout answered. After 
a pause Hawkeye spoke. He told them that he 
had not answered to the name of the Long Carbine 
because Killdeer was not a carbine, but a grooved 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 99 


rifle, and, besides, he did not allow any Mingo to 
give him a name when he had one of his own. 
“My father,” he said, “named me Nathaniel; my 
friends, the Delawares, called me Hawk eye; and 
those are the names I answer to.” 

The eyes of all present were now turned, on the 
instant, toward the tall form of this pretender to 
the distinguished name. Some of their old men 
consulted together in private, and then, as it would 
seem, they determined to question their visitor on 
the subject. 

Then the Fox, standing in the center of the circle, 
and directly before the prisoners, began to speak. 

He spoke of the difference between the red man 
and the white; of the greed, and tyranny, and 
robberies of the white man; of the greatness of the 
Indians until the white man had come to their 
destruction; of the power of the Delawares in the 
old days ; of their deeds, their glory, their happiness, 
their losses, their defeats, their misery; of his 
great reverence and love for them, even though 
he came of another tribe and nation. Then he 
stopped. 

“I have done,” he said. “My tongue is still, 
for my heart is glad. I listen.” 

Old Tamenund, or Tammany, the aged chief of 
all the Delawares, said : 

“Who speaks of things gone? Why tell the 
Delawares of good that is past ? Better thank the 
Great Spirit for what remains to us. What does 
the Huron want ?” 

“Justice,” replied the Fox, standing before the 


100 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


chief. “His prisoners are with his brothers, and 
he comes for his own.” 

Tamenund turned his head toward one of his 
supporters, and listened to the short explanation 
the man gave. Then, facing the Fox, he regarded 
him a moment with a deep attention; after which 
he said, in a low and unwilling voice: 

“Justice is the law of the Great Spirit. My 
children, give the stranger food. Then, Huron, 
take thine own and depart.” 

On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the 
patriarch seated himself, and closed his eyes again, 
as if better pleased with the images of his own 
mind within than with the visible objects of the 
world. The words were barely uttered when four 
or five of the younger warriors, stepping behind 
Heyward and the scout, passed thongs so dex- 
terously and rapidly around their arms as to hold 
them both in instant bondage. 

The Fox cast a look of triumph around the 
whole assembly before he proceeded to the execu- 
tion of his purpose. Perceiving that the men were 
unable to offer any resistance, he turned his looks 
on Cora. She met his gaze with an eye so calm 
and firm that his resolution wavered. Then, 
turning swiftly, he caught up Alice from the arms 
of the warrior against whom she leaned, and, 
beckoning Heyward to follow, he motioned for the 
encircling crowd to open. But Cora, instead of 
obeying the impulse he had expected, rushed to 
the feet of the patriarch, Tamenund, and, raising 
her voice, exclaimed aloud : 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS ioi 

“Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom 
and power we lean for mercy! Be deaf to yonder 
monster, who poisons thy ears with falsehoods to 
feed his thirst for blood. Thou that hast lived 
long, and that hast seen the evil of the world, 
shouldst know how to be kind to the miserable. ” 

The old man opened his eyes slowly and looked 
at the queenly girl. 

“Who art thou ?” he said. 

Cora told him that she was a woman of the 
hated English race, but begged for mercy, for 
release, for permission simply to depart, and not to 
be delivered to the cruel Huron Fox. 

Then she said, “Is Tamenund a father ?” 

The old man looked out upon the people, who 
revered him as their chief ruler. Then he smiled 
benignantly. 

“Of a nation/’ he answered. 

“For myself,” said Cora, “I ask nothing. But 
yonder is one who has never known the weight of 
Heaven’s displeasure until now. She is the 
daughter of an old and failing man, whose days aje 
near their close. She has many, very many, to 
love her and delight in her; and she is too good, 
much too precious, to become the victim of that 
villain.” 

“I know that the palefaces are a proud and 
hungry race. I know that they claim not only to 
have the earth, but that the meanest of their color 
is better than the sachems of the red man. The 
dogs and crows of their tribes,” continued the 
earnest old chieftain, without heeding the wounded 


102 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


spirit of his listener, “would bark and caw before 
they would take a woman to their wigwams whose 
blood was not of the color of snow. ” 

“It is so,” said Cora, drawing a long breath, as 
if reviving from a trance, raising her face, and 
shaking back her shining veil, with a kindling eye 
that contradicted the death-like paleness of her 
countenance; “but why — it is not permitted us 
to inquire. There is yet one of thine own people 
who has not been brought before thee; before thou 
lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear him 
speak.” 

Observing Tamenund to look about him doubt- 
ingly, one of his companions said : 

“It is a snake — a redskin in the pay of the 
English. We keep him for the torture.” 

“Let him come in,” the old chief commanded. 

There was a pause; then the circle opened, and 
Uncas stood before him, his eye fixed on the 
patriarch. 

“With what tongue does the prisoner speak ?” 
he asked. 

“Like his fathers,” Uncas replied; with the 
tongue of a Delaware. ” 

At this sudden and unexpected answer, a low, 
fierce yell ran through the multitude that might not 
inaptly be compared to the growl of the lion, as 
his spirit is first awakened — a fearful omen of the 
weight of his future anger. The effect was equally 
strong on the sage, though differently shown. He 
passed a hand before his eyes, as if to exclude the 
least evidence of so shameful a spectacle, while he 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 103 


repeated, in his low, guttural tones, the words he 
had just heard. 

“ A Delaware !” said the aged chief and father of 
his tribe, “thou art not worthy of thy name. He 
who deserts his tribe is a traitor. He is yours, my 
children. Deal justly by him.” 

It was the sentence of Uncas. At once a cry of 
vengeance burst from all the nation, and a chief 
proclaimed, in a high voice, that the captive was 
condemned to endure the dreadful -trial of torture 
by fire. 

At once they prepared for the sacrifice. But the 
prisoners were deeply moved by the sad fate of 
their friend, Uncas. Heyward struggled madly 
with his captors; Hawk eye began to look around 
him, earnestly and hopefully, as if he expected aid 
of some sort for his friend, while Cora again threw 
herself at the feet of the patriarch, a suppliant for 
mercy. 

Throughout the whole of these trying moments, 
Uncas had alone preserved his serenity. He 
looked on the preparations with a steady eye, and, 
when the tormentors came to seize him, he met 
them with a firm and upright attitude. One 
among them, if possible more fierce and savage 
than his fellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the 
young warrior, and, at a single effort, tore it from 
his body. Then, with a yell of frantic pleasure, he 
leaped toward his unresisting victim, and prepared 
to lead him to the stake. But, at that moment, 
when he appeared most a stranger to the feelings of 
humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested 


io 4 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


as suddenly as if some unknown power had 
appeared in the behalf of Uncas. The eyeballs of 
the Delaware seemed to start from their sockets; 
his mouth opened, and his whole form became 
frozen in an attitude of amazement. Raising his 
hand, with a slow and regulated motion, he 
pointed with a finger to the bosom of the captive. 
His companions crowded about him in wonder, 
and every eye was, like his own, fastened intently 
on the figure of a small tortoise beautifully tattooed 
on the breast of the prisoner, in a bright blue tint. 

For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, 
calmly smiling on the scene. Then, motioning 
the crowd away, with a high and haughty sweep of 
his arm, he advanced in front of the nation with the 
air of a king, and spoke in a voice louder than the 
murmur of admiration that ran through the 
multitude: 

“Men of the Lenni Lenape!” he said, “my race 
upholds the earth! Your feeble tribe stands on 
my shell! What fire that a Delaware can light 
would burn the child of my fathers ?” he added, 
pointing proudly to the simple figure marked on 
his skin. “The blood that came from such a 
stock would smother your flames! My race is the 
grandfather of nations !” 

“Who art thou?” demanded Tamenund, rising 
at the startling tones he heard, more than at any 
meaning conveyed by the language of the prisoner. 

“Uncas, the son of Chingachgook,” answered 
the captive, modestly turning from the nation, and 
bending his head in reverence to the other’s char- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 105 

acter and years; “a son of the great chief, clan of 
the Turtle.” 

“The hour of Tamenund is nigh!” exclaimed 
the sage; “the day is come, at last, to the night! 
I thank the Great Spirit that one is here to fill my 
place at the council-fire. Uncas, the child of 
Uncas, is found! Let the eyes of a dying eagle 
gaze on the rising sun!” 

The youth stepped lightly, but proudly, on the 
platform, where he became visible to the whole 
agitated and wondering multitude. Tamenund 
held him long at the length of his arm, and read 
every turn in the fine lineaments of his countenance 
with the untiring gaze of one who recalled days of 
happiness. 

“Is Tamenund a boy ?” at length the bewildered 
prophet exclaimed. “Have I dreamed of so many 
snows — that my people were scattered like float- 
ing sands — of the white men, more plenty than the 
leaves on the trees? The arrow of Tamenund 
would not frighten the fawn; his arm is withered 
like the branch of a dead oak; the snail would be 
swifter in the race; yet is Uncas before him as they 
went to battle against the plaefaces! Uncas, the 
panther of his tribe, the eldest son of the Lenape, 
the wisest sagamore of the Mohicans! Tell me, ye 
Delawares, has Tamenund been a sleeper for a 
hundred winters ?” 

The calm and deep silence which succeeded 
these words sufficiently announced the awful 
reverence with which his people received the utter- 
ance of the patriarch. None dared to answer, 


io6 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


though all listened in breathless expectation of 
what might follow. Uncas, however, looking in 
his face with the fondness and veneration of a 
favored child, presumed on his own high and 
acknowledged rank to reply: 

“Four warriors of his race have lived, and died,” 
he said, “since Uncas, the friend of Tamenund, led 
his people in battle. The blood of the Turtle has 
been in many chiefs, but all have gone except 
Chingachgook, and Uncas, his son.” 

“It is true,” said the old man. “Our wise men 
have often said that two warriors of the unchanged 
race were in the hills of the English. Why have 
their seats at the council-fires of the Delawares 
been so long empty?” 

“Once,” said Uncas, “we were rulers and saga- 
mores. But when the Delawares gave way before 
the white men, we, the Mohicans, said, ‘We are 
children of the sea. Here will we stay until the 
Great Spirit says, Come!’ Such, Delawares, is 
the belief of the children of the Turtle. We are the 
last of the Mohicans. But our eyes are on the 
rising, and not on the setting sun. It is enough.” 

The Delawares listened with respect. Uncas 
watched them carefully. Then, when he saw that 
he was honored by them all, he thought of his 
white friends. Looking over the throng, he first 
saw Hawkeye, bound and a prisoner. 

He stepped to the side of the scout, and, with a 
quick and angry stroke of his knife, cut him loose; 
then, taking him by the hand, he led him to the 
feet of Tamenund, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 107 


“Father,” he said, “look at this paleface — a 
just man and the friend of the Delawares.” 

“What name is his?” 

“We call him Hawkeye,” Uncas replied, “for 
his sight never fails. The Mingos — the Hurons — 
know him better by the death he gives their war- 
riors. They call him the Long Carbine.” 

“The Long Carbine!” exclaimed Tamenund, 
regarding the scout sternly. “My son has not 
done well to call him friend.” 

“I call him so who so proves himself,” returned 
the young chief, calmly. “If Uncas is welcome 
among the Delawares, then is Hawkeye with his 
friends.” 

“The paleface has struck down my young men,” 
said the old chief. “For this is his name great.” 

Then Hawkeye spoke. 

“That I have slain the Mingos,” he said, “I 
am no man to deny, even at their own council- 
fires; but that, knowingly, my hand has ever 
harmed a Delaware, is not true, for I am friendly 
to them and all that belongs to their nation.” 

A low exclamation of applause passed among 
the warriors, who exchanged looks with each 
other like men that first began to perceive their 
error. 

“Where is the Huron ?” demanded Tamenund. 
“Has he stopped my ears ?” 

The Fox, whose feelings during that scene in 
which Uncas had triumphed may be much better 
imagined than described, answered to the call by 
stepping boldly in front of the patriarch. 


io8 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


‘'The just Tamenund,” he said, “will not keep 
what a Huron has lent.” 

“Tell me, son of my brother,” returned the sage, 
avoiding the dark countenance of the Fox, and turn- 
ing gladly to the more ingenuous features of Uncas, 
“has the stranger a conqueror’s right over you ?” 

“He has none. The panther may get into snares 
set by the women; but he is strong, and knows 
how to leap through them.” 

“The Long Carbine?” 

“Laughs at the Mingos. Go, Huron, ask your 
squaws the color of a bear.” 

“The stranger and the white maiden that came 
into my camp together?” 

“Should journey on an open path.” 

“And the woman that the Huron left with my 
warriors ?” Uncas made no reply. 

“And the woman that the Mingo has brought 
into my camp?” repeated Tamenund, gravely. 

“She is mine, cried the Fox, shaking his hand 
in triumph at Uncas. “Mohican, you know that 
she is mine.” 

“My son is silent,” said Tamenund, endeavor- 
ing to read the expression of the face that the youth 
turned from him in sorrow. 

“It is so,” was the low answer. 

A short and impressive pause succeeded, during 
which it could be seen that the tribe, reluctantly, 
admitted the Fox’s claim. ThenTamenund spoke: 

“Huron, depart,” he said. 

“As he came, just Tamenund ?” demanded the 
cruel Fox. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 109 


“Huron, would you take one against her wishes 
to your wigwam ?” said the old chief. “An unwil- 
ling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam. Take 
you the wampum and our love.” 

“Nothing but what I brought will I take,” 
declared the Fox. 

“Then, said Tamenund, “depart with thine 
own. The Great Spirit forbids that a Delaware 
should be unjust.” 

The Fox strode to Cora’s side and grasped her 
by the arm. The Delawares fell back in silence, 
and Cora prepared to submit to her fate. 

Heyward in vain pleaded with the Fox to 
release the girl; and Hawkeye offered himself to 
go in her place as a prisoner to the Hurons. 

At his generous proposal a murmur of approval 
went through the throng. But the Fox paused 
only a moment. Then looking at Cora, he said: 

“The Fox has but one mind, come,” and he put 
his hand on the shoulder of the captive girl. “A 
Huron does not talk twice. We will go.” 

“Take off your hand,” said Cora. “I will 
follow you, though it is to my death. Hawkeye, 
from my soul I thank you. Your generous offer 
is of no avail. But neither could I accept it. 
Serve me even more, I pray you, by saving my 
sister and returning her to my father. Would 
that I could hear but one last word from his dear 
lips. Duncan, good-by. Be faithful and kind to 
Alice. 

Then she kissed her unconscious sister, a long 
deep, loving kiss, and, turning proudly to her 


no 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


captor, said, “Now, sir, if it please you, I will fol- 
low. Go on.” 

“Go then, brute,” cried Heyward, “Go, if you 
will. These Delawares have their laws, which 
forbid them to detain you. But — I am not held 
by their laws. Go, if you wish, and go at once.” 

The Huron listened to Heyward's threat to fol- 
low, at first with a fierce display of joy, and then 
with a look of cunning coldness. 

“The woods are open,” he was content with 
answering, “the ‘Open Hand’ can come.” 

“Hold,” cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the 
arm, and detaining him by violence;” you know 
not the craft of the imp. He would lead you to an 
ambushment, and your death — ” 

“Huron,” interrupted Uncas, who, submissive 
to the stern customs of his people, had been an 
attentive and grave listener to all that passed; 
“Huron, the justice of the Delawares comes from 
the Great Spirit. Look at the sun. He is now in 
the upper branches of the hemlock. Your path is 
short and open. When the sun is seen above the 
trees, there will be men on your trail.” 

“I hear a crow!” exclaimed the Fox, with a 
taunting laugh. “Go,” he added, shaking his hand 
at the crowd, which had slowly opened to admit 
his passage — Dogs, rabbits, thieves — I spit on 
you!” 

His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, 
boding silence, and, with these biting words in his 
mouth, the triumphant Huron passed unmolested 
into the forest, followed by his submissive captive, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 


III 


and protected by the sacred laws of Indian hospi- 
tality. 

For a while all was still in the council of the 
Delawares. Then, as the Huron and his prisoner 
disappeared in the forest and the law of their 
hospitality had been fulfilled, the reaction came. 

“Vengeance !” was the cry. “Death to the 
wicked Huron.” 

The village was in a great stir. The women 
and children, and the patriarch Tamenund, were 
sent away or conducted to their lodges, and then 
all the chiefs and braves of the Lenni Lenape, as 
the Delawares called their nation in its broadest 
and loftiest name, gathered for the war-dance and 
the war-trail. 

Then, when the sun stood above the tops of the 
hemlocks, Uncas saw that the truce of hospitality 
promised to the Huron was over, and he told his 
warriors at once to prepare for the warpath. 

Hawkeye had sent an Indian boy to the place 
where his guns had been hidden, and now held once 
again his beloved Killdeer. He had also returned 
to Uncas the Mohican’s own rifle. Then Uncas 
told the Delawares of the strength in war of the 
scout and of the command that Duncan Heyward 
held in the army of the English. To Hawkeye 
was given the command of twenty active, skilful 
Delaware forest hunters. But Heyward declined 
a command, and said he preferred to act as a 
volunteer by the side of the scout. Uncas himself 
led upon the war-path two hundred warriors and 
their chiefs. 


1 1 2 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Just as they were ready to start, who should 
appear on the scene but David, the singing-master. 
He said that the Hurons were making so much noise 
and “ungodly revelry,” as he called their war- 
songs and dances, that he had fled to the Delawares 
in search of peace. 

He did not find it among them; but he did find 
his friends. He told them that the Hurons were 
now hidden in the forest in wait for the Delawares, 
and that the Fox, after placing Cora in the cave 
they knew of, was himself at the head of the Hu- 
rons, “raging,” so David expressed it, “like a rag- 
ing wolf.” 

Then Hawkeye determined to call to his as- 
sistance Chingachgook, the sagamore, and Colo- 
nel Munro, and with his twenty men to strike 
the right of the Hurons. At the same time Uncas, 
with his force, was to assail them in front, and, 
after driving them in, they would unite forces 
and attack the village, release Cora, and, by a 
swift and skilful dash, defeat the whole Huron 
force. 

This was carried out as agreed. There was 
fierce and bitter forest fighting between the hostile 
tribes. Many Delawares fell; many Hurons were 
killed. But Hawkeye led his men resistlessly 
against the foe, and Uncas, with his warriors, 
pressed them so hard that at last the Hurons broke 
and ran, except one little knot of desperate fighting 
men, who, under the lead of the Fox, backed 
slowly, fighting, up the rocky hillside. 

Step by step they were forced back, with Uncas 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 113 

in the lead of the pursuers, hunting the baffled Fox 
like a hound upon the stag. 

One by one the companions of the Huron were 
killed; he stood alone against the vengeance of 
Uncas and the pursuit of Hawkeye, Heyward, and 
David. For the poor singing-master was as deter- 
mined to assist and save Cora as were the Indian, 
and the scout, and the soldier. 

Suddenly the Fox disappeared into the mouth of 
the cave in which Heyward had once discovered 
Alice, and from which he had saved her. 

Not stopping to consider, the pursuers leaped in 
after the retreating Hurons. Far ahead in the 
gloomy passages they could get, now and then, 
glimpses of the fleeing Hurons. But when, on a 
path that seemed leading up the mountain, they 
caught the flutter of a white dress, Heyward gave 
a shout. 

“Cora! It is Cora!” he cried. 

“Cora! Cora!” echoed Uncas, and bounded 
forward like a deer. 

“Courage, courage,” cried the scout in his 
cheeriest voice. “We are coming.” 

But the Hurons knew the passages better than 
did their pursuers, and were out of the cave before 
them, although with Cora to carry they could not 
make the speed in flight that would save them. 

Brought to bay, with the Delaware and the white 
men almost upon him, the Fox turned, and, wait- 
ing but a brief moment, lifted his knife as if to kill 
the girl. Just then, down the height, straight upon 
the Huron, leaped Uncas, and, as he did so, another 


1 14 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Huron, who had fled with the Fox, buried his knife 
in Cora’s heart. 

The Fox sprang upon Uncas as he fell, and 
plunged his weapon in his back, but the Mohican 
leaped to his feet and struck down the murderer 
of Cora with the last of his failing strength. Then 
he swayed and fell, while the Fox, driving his knife 
once more into the bosom of Uncas, himself fell 
dead over the precipice, shot down by the avenging 
rifle of Hawkeye, the friend of Uncas. 

The battle was over. The Delawares were 
victors, but at what cost: Uncas had fallen, Cora 
was dead, and the cruel Fox, instead of being a 
prisoner in their hands for punishment, had fallen 
in the fight. 

Cora, wrapped in Indian robes, was buried in 
the forest, while her aged father stood beside her 
bowed in grief. 

But Uncas was arrayed for the grave in full 
Indian fashion, and in the most gorgeous orna- 
ments that the wealth of the tribe could furnish. 

At last, the long funeral rites were over. 

Colonel Munro, with his remaining daughter, 
Alice, and Heyward and David accompanying 
them, turned from Cora’s grave toward the post of 
the English army; and so all the white men except 
Hawkeye passed from the eyes of the Delawares 
and were lost in the depths of the forest. 

Hawkeye returned to the spot where his own 
sympathies led him with a force that no ideal bond 
of union could bestow. He was just in time to 
catch a parting look of the features of Uncas, whom 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS 


ll 5 


the Delawares were already enclosing in his last 
vestments of skins. They paused to permit the 
longing and lingering gaze of the sturdy woodsman, 
and, when it was ended, the body was enveloped, 
never to be unclosed again. 

The Indian service was over. Then Chingach- 
gook, the sagamore, the father of Uncas, stood 
before them. • 

“Why do my brothers mourn ?” he said, regard- 
ing the dark race of dejected warriors by whom 
he was environed; “why do my daughters weep? 
That a young man has gone to the happy hunting- 
grounds ? That a chief has filled his time with 
honor? He was good; he was dutiful; he was 
brave. Who can deny it ? The Great Spirit had 
need of such a warrior, and he has called him away. 
As for me, the son and the father of Uncas, I am 
a blazed pine in a clearing of the palefaces. I am 
alone — ” 

“No, no!” cried Hawk eye, who had been gazing 
with a yearning look at the rigid features of his 
friend, with something like his own self-command, 
but with feelings that could be kept down no longer. 
“No, sagamore, not alone. The gifts of our colors 
may be different, but God has so placed us as to 
journey in the same path. I have no kin, and, I 
may also say, like you, no people. He was your 
son, and a redskin by nature; and it may be that 
your blood was nearer — but, if ever I forget the 
lad who has so often fou’t at my side in the war, 
and slept at my side in peace, may He who made 
us all, whatever may be our color or our gifts, 


1 16 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


forget me! The boy has left us for a time, but, 
sagamore, you are not alone. ” 

Chingachgook grasped the hand that, in the 
warmth of feeling, the scout had stretched across 
the fresh earth, and in that attitude of friendship 
these two sturdy and fearless woodsmen bowed 
their heads together, while scalding tears fell to 
their feet, watering the graves of Uncas like drops 
of falling rain. 

In the midst of the awful stillness with which 
such a burst of feeling, coming, as it did, from the 
two most renowned warriors of that region, was 
received, Tamenund lifted his voice to disperse the 
multitude: 

“It is enough,” he said. “Go, children of the 
Lenape; the anger of the Great Spirit is not done. 
Why should Tamenund stay? The palefaces are 
masters of the earth; the time of the red men has 
not come again. My day has been too long. In 
the morning I saw the children of the great Turtle 
strong and happy. The night has come; yet have 
I lived to see the close of a mighty race, — Uncas, 
the last of the Mohicans.” 


THE PATHFINDER 


A TALE OF THE THOUSAND ISLANDS 

M ANY years ago, a girl named Mabel Dun- 
ham was traveling to join her father. He 
was a soldier in a fort on Lake Ontario, 
one of the great fresh-water lakes that lie between 
New York and Canada. 

MabePs mother was dead, and her father had 
sent for her at the East to join him at the Fort. 
At the time of this story, almost all the great New 
York State, except along the Hudson River, was a 
wilderness — beautiful lakes, broad rivers, splendid 
mountains, but only inhabited by a few settlers, 
by soldiers, hunters, and Indians. The French, 
who lived in Canada, were all the time trying to 
get control of all the land on both sides of the great 
lakes, and were stirring up the Indians to be on 
their side, and against the English soldiers and 
settlers in New York. 

So a journey from New York City to the Fort 
on Lake Ontario was through great forests and 
among savage Indians. It was full of danger and 
adventure, and only a brave girl could enjoy it, 
But Mabel Dunham was a soldier’s daughter, and 
as brave as she was pretty. She was traveling in 
the care of her uncle, a regular old sea-water sailor. 
His name was Cap, and he did not think much of 
(i 1 7) 


1 1 8 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


dry land, or woods, or rivers, while, as for the fresh- 
water lakes he had heard about, he called them 
“wash-tubs,” and said no one could ever be in 
danger on them. To him there was nothing like 
the ocean, and all his talk was sea-talk. 

They had been guided through the forests by an 
Indian. He was of the Tuscarora tribe, and his 
name was Arrowhead; his wife whose name was 
June, was with him. 

As Mabel, and Cap, and Arrowhead and June 
were going through the forest, they met at last, at a 
point agreed upon, the guides who were to take 
them the rest of the way. 

The chief of these was a hunter and scout whose 
name was Natty Bumpo, but whom the soldiers 
called Pathfinder, because he never lost his way, 
and always knew just where the path he was 
traveling led to. 

With him was a Mohican Indian, his companion 
and friend on many a hunt, named Chingachgook, 
and a young man who was the captain of a very 
smart brig, or cutter, called the “Scud,” one of the 
swiftest sailing vessels on Lake Ontario. The 
sailor’s name was Jasper Western. 

They had many perilous adventures in the 
woods and on the river before they reached the 
Fort on the lake. But Pathfinder was a great 
guide, and brought them safely out of every dan- 
ger, while Jasper looked carefully after Mabel, and 
at last they reached the Fort in safety, and Mabel 
was in the arms of the father whom she had not 
seen for years. 



Chingachook Overcome by the Iroquois. 




THE PATHFINDER 


ii9 

Sergeant Dunham, Mabel’s father, was a grim 
and crusty old soldier. He had a good, kind 
heart, and loved his daughter. But he had always 
been a soldier, and his ways were those of a man 
accustomed to obeying and being obeyed. 

Mabel was such a pretty girl that all the soldiers 
in the fort fell in love with her. But none of them 
loved her so dearly as did the sailor, Jasper West- 
ern, who, in their long and perilous journey to the 
lake, had seen what a good, brave, gentle girl she 
was. But he was a little afraid of Sergeant Dun- 
ham, and, as he was a modest, quiet, young fellow, 
he did not dare to tell the sergeant that he loved 
his daughter. 

Sergeant Dunham, it seems, thought a great 
deal of Pathfinder, and believed he was just the 
one to make a kind husband and a good protector 
for Mabel. So he did not pay much attention to 
young Jasper Western, but he did talk to Path- 
finder and tell him that he was just the man he 
desired as the husband of his daughter. But 
Mabel knew nothing about this. 

Cap and Pathfinder were good friends, but could 
never agree, because one loved the ocean and the 
other the woods, and each claimed his choice to be 
the best. Now, Cap would not believe that Jasper, 
who was only a fresh-water sailor, was much of a 
sailor anyway, and he did not hesitate to tell him so. 
They were soon to have a chance to prove whether 
this was so or not, for Major Duncan, the com- 
mander of the fort, decided to send some of his sol- 
diers to take the place of others in a smaller fort 


120 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


on the St. Lawrence — the great river that leads from 
Lake Ontario to the Atlantic Ocean. Sergeant 
Dunham was to lead with the party, and as it was 
to be a stay of a month or more, he determined to 
take Mabel with him. 

They were to sail to the St. Lawrence on 
Jasper Western’s cutter, the “Scud.” Pathfinder 
and Cap were to be of the party, and Lieutenant 
Muir, one of Major Duncan’s assistants, went, too 
— not in command, but as a volunteer. Lieu- 
tenant Muir was a widower, who was also in love 
with Mabel, but the girl would not listen to his 
suit. He thought, however, that this trip would 
give him a chance to plead his cause. 

So here they were all to be together on the little 
brig, — Mabel Dunham, and the three men, each 
of whom either wished to be or was selected to be 
her husband — Lieutenant Muir, Pathfinder, and 
Jasper Western. But Mabel liked Jasper best. 

The whole force placed under the care of Ser- 
geant Dunham consisted of but ten privates and 
two non-commissioned officers, though Mr. Muir 
was to go with the expedition as a volunteer, and 
some duty connected with his own department, 
as had been arranged between him and his com- 
mander, was the avowed object. To these must be 
added the Pathfinder and Cap, with Jasper and 
those under him, of whom one was a boy, The 
males of the entire party, consequently, consisted 
of less than twenty men and a lad of fourteen. 
Mabel and the wife of a common soldier were the 
only women. 


THE PATHFINDER 


121 


Sergeant Dunham carried off his command in a 
large bateau or flat-bottomed boat, and then 
returned for his final orders, and to see that his 
brother-in-law and daughter were properly at- 
tended. 

It was nearly dark when Mabel found herself 
in the boat that was to carry her off* to the cutter. 
When the boat left the land, Mabel would not have 
known that she was afloat on so broad a sheet of 
water by any movement that is usual to such cir- 
cumstances. The oars had barely time to give a 
dozen strokes when the boat lay at the cutter’s side. 

Jasper was in readiness to receive his passengers, 
and, as the deck of the “Scud” was but two or three 
feet above the water, no difficulty was met with 
in getting on board her. The little vessel contained 
four apartments below, all between-decks having 
been expressly fixed with a view to the carrying of 
officers and men, with their wives and families.. 
First in rank was what was called the after-cabin, 
a small apartment that contained four berths, 
and which enjoyed the advantage of possessing 
small windows for the letting in of air and light. 
This was uniformly devoted to women, whenever 
any were on board; and as Mabel and her com- 
panion were alone, they had ample space and 
accommodation. 

The main cabin was larger, and lighted from 
above. It was now set apart to the uses of the 
quartermaster, the sergeant, Cap, and Jasper, the 
Pathfinder roaming through any part of the cutter 
he pleased, the compartment for the women 


122 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


excepted. The corporals and common soldiers 
occupied the space beneath the main hatch, which 
had a deck for such a purpose; while the crew were 
berthed, as usual, in the forecastle. Although the 
cutter did not measure quite fifty tons, the draft of 
officers and men was so light that there was ample 
room for all on board, there being space enough 
to accommodate three times the number, if neces- 
sary. 

As soon as Mabel had taken possession of 
her own really comfortable and pretty cabin, in 
doing which she could not escape the thought that 
some of Jasper’s favor had been especially shown 
in her behalf, she went on deck again. The men 
were roving to and fro in quest of their knapsacks 
and other effects, but method and habit soon re- 
duced things to order, when the stillness on board 
became even imposing, for it was connected with 
the idea of future adventure and ominous prepa- 
ration. 

Darkness was now beginning to render objects 
on shore indistinct, the whole of the land forming 
one shapeless black outline of even forest summits 
that was to be distinguished from the impending 
heavens only by the greater light of the sky. The 
stars, however, soon began to appear, one after 
another, in their usual mild, placid luster, bringing 
with them that sense of quiet which ordinarily 
accompanies night. There was something sooth- 
ing as well as exciting in such a scene; and Mabel, 
who was seated on the quarter-deck, felt both 
influences. The Pathfinder was standing near 


THE PATHFINDER 


123 


her, leaning, as usual, on his long rifle, and she 
fancied that, through the glowing darkness of the 
hour, she could trace even stronger lines of thought 
than usual in his rugged countenance. 

“Will the ‘Scud’ remain with us when we reach 
the island ?” she asked, after a little hesitation 
about the propriety of the question, “or shall we be 
left to oursplves ?” 

“That’s as may be. Jasper does not often keep 
the cutter idle when anything is to be done, and we 
may expect activity on his part. We shall have 
all right, under Jasper, I make no doubt, who can 
find a trail on Ontario as well as a Delaware can 
find one on the land.” 

“And our own Delaware, Pathfinder, Chingach- 
gook, — the Big Serpent, as you call him — why is he 
not with us to-night ?” 

“He is out with two or three more scouting the 
lake shores, and will join us down among the 
islands with the tidings he may gather. The ser- 
geant is to good a soldier to forget his rear while he 
is facing the enemy in front!” 

“Shall we have enemies to face in front?” 
asked Mabel, smiling, and for the first time feeling 
a slight anxiety about the dangers of the expedi- 
tion. “Are we likely to have a battle ?” 

“If we have, Mabel, there will be men enough 
ready and willing to stand between you and harm. 
But you are a soldier’s daughter, and, we all know, 
have the spirit of one. Don’t let the fear of a 
battle keep your pretty eyes from sleeping.” 

“I do feel braver out here in the woods, Path- 


124 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


finder, than I ever felt before amid the weaknesses 
of the towns, althought I have always tried to 
remember what I owe to my dear father.” 

In the meanwhile, an interview at the Fort took 
place between Major Duncan and the sergeant. 

“Have the men’s knapsacks been examined ?” 
demanded Major Duncan. 

“All, your honor; and all are right.” 

“The ammunition — arms — ?” 

“All in order, Major Duncan, and fit for any 
service.” 

“You have the men named in my own draft, 
Dunham ?” 

“Without an exception, sir. Better men could 
not be found in the regiment.” 

“You have need of the best of our men, sergeant. 
This experiment has now been tried three times; 
always under one of the ensigns, who have flattered 
me with success, but have as often failed. After 
so much preparation and expense, I do not like 
to abandon the project entirely; but this will be 
the last effort, and the result will mainly depend on 
you and on the Pathfinder.” 

“You may count on us both, Major Duncan. 
The duty you have given us is not above our habits 
and experience, and I think it will be well done. I 
know that the Pathfinder will not be wanting.” 

“On that, indeed, it will be safe to rely. He 
is a most extradinary man, Dunham — one who 
long puzzled me; but who, now that I understand 
him commands as much of my respect as any 
general in his Majesty’s service.” By the way, 


THE PATHFINDER 


125 


you know that your would-be son-in-law, the 
quartermaster, will be of the party, and I trust you 
will at least give him an equal chance in the trial 
for your daughter’s smiles.” 

“If respect for his rank, sir, did not cause me to 
do this, your honor’s wish would be sufficient.” 

“I thank you, sergeant. We have served much 
together, and ought to value each other in our 
several stations. Understand me, however, I 
ask no more for Davy Muir than a clear field and 
no favor. In love, as in war, each man must gain 
his own victories. You have no doubt of the skill 
of Jasper Western ?” 

“The boy has been tried, sir, and found equal 
to all that can be required of him.” 

“He has passed much of his boyhood in the 
French colonies; has he French blood in his veins, 
sergeant ?” 

“Not a drop, your honor. Jasper’s father was 
an old comrade of my own, and his mother came 
of an honest and loyal family in this very prov- 
ince.” 

“How came he, then, so much among the French, 
and whence his name ? He speakes the language 
of the Canadas, too, I find.” 

“That is easily explained, Major Duncan. 
The boy was left under the care of one of our 
mariners in the old war, and he took to the water 
like a duck. Your honor knows that we have no 
ports on Ontario, that can be named as such, and 
he naturally passed most of his time on the other 
side of the lake, where the French have had a few 


1 26 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


vessels these fifty years. He learned to speak their 
language as a matter of course.” 

“It is the duty of the soldier who is entrusted 
with the care of a distant and important post like 
this, Dunham, never to grow slack in his vigilance. 
We have two of the most artful enemies that the 
world has ever produced, in their several ways, to 
contend with — the Indians and the French; and 
nothing should be overlooked that can lead to 
injury.” 

“I hope your honor considers me fit to be en- 
trusted with any particular reason that may exist 
for doubting Jasper, since you have seen fit to 
entrust me with this command.” 

“It is not that I doubt you, Dunham, that I 
hesitate to reveal all I may happen to know, but 
from a strong unwillingness to circulate an evil 
report concerning one of whom I have hitherto 
thought well. You must think well of the Path- 
finder or you would not wish to give him your 
daughter ?” 

“For the Pathfinder’s honesty I will answer with 
my life, . sir,” returned the sergeant firmly, and not 
without a dignity of manner that struck his su- 
perior. “Such a man doesn’t know how to be 
false.” 

“I believe you are right, Dunham, and yet this 
last information has unsettled all my old opinions. 
The truth is, sergeant, I have received a letter with- 
out any name signed to it, advising me to be on my 
guard against Jasper Western, who, it says, has 
been bought by the enemy, and giving me reason 


THE PATHFINDER 


127 

to expect that further and more precise word will 
soon be sent.” 

“Letters without signatures to them, sir, are 
scarcely to be regarded in war.” 

“Or in peace, Dunham. No one can entertain 
a lower opinion of the writer of such a letter, in 
ordinary matters, than myself. The very act 
denotes cowardice, meanness, and baseness; and 
it usually is a token of falsehood, as well as of other 
vices. But in matters of war it is not exactly the 
same thing; besides, several suspicious circum- 
stances have been pointed out to me. It is said, 
for instance, that your daughter and her party were 
permitted to escape the Iroquois, when they came 
in, merely to give Jasper credit with me. I am 
told that the Frenchmen care more for the capture 
of the ‘Scud/ with Sergeant Dunham and a party 
of men, together with the defeat of our favorite 
plan, than for the capture of a girl and the scalp of 
her uncle.” 

“I understand the hint, sir; I do not give it 
credit. Jasper can hardly be true, and Pathfinder 
false; and as for the last, I would as soon distrust 
your honor as distrust him.” 

“This letter has made me uneasy; and, were 
there another to whom I could trust the cutter, 
I would devise some means to detain him here. I 
have spoken to you already of your brother-in-law, 
who goes with you, sergeant, and who is a sailor ?” 

“A real seafaring man, your honor, is Cap, 
though somewhat prejudiced against fresh water. 
I doubt if he could be induced to risk his character 


128 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


on a lake, and I’m certain he never could find the 
station.” 

“The last is probably true, and, then, the man 
can not know enough of this treacherous lake to be 
fit for the employment. You will have to be 
doubly watchful, Dunham. I give you full powers, 
and should you detect this Jasper in any treachery 
kill him at once without trial.” 

“Being in the service of the crown, he has a right 
to martial law — ” 

“Very true — then iron him, from his head to his 
heels, and send him up here in his own cutter. 
That brother-in-law of yours must be able to find 
the way back after he has once traveled the road.” 

“I make no doubt, Major Dunham, we shall be 
able to do all that will be necessary, should Jasper 
turn out as you seem to expect; though I think I 
would risk my life on his truth.” 

“I like your confidence; it speaks well for the 
fellow — but that infernal letter! There is such an 
air of truth about it, — nay, there is so much truth 
in it, touching other matters — ” 

“I think your honor said it wanted the name at 
the bottom; a great omission for an honest man 
to make.” 

“Quite right, Dunham, and no one but a rascal, 
and a cowardly rascal into the bargain, would 
write an anonymous letter on private affairs. It 
is different, however, in war. Dispatches are 
feigned, and even falsehood is generally allowed 
to be justifiable.” 

“Military, manly deceits, sir, if you will; such 


THE PATHFINDER 


129 


as ambushes, surprises, feints, false attacks, and 
even spies; but I never heard of a true soldier who 
could wish to undermine the character of an honest 
young man by such means as these.” 

“I have met with many strange events, and some 
stranger people, in the course of my experience. 
But fare you well, sergeant; I must detain you no 
longer. You are now on your guard, and I recom- 
mend to you untiring vigilance. 

“Be wary, and do not trust that young man 
unnecessarily. Make a confidant of Pathfinder at 
once; he may be of service in detecting any villainy 
that may be stirring. His simple honesty will 
help him in keeping the matter secret. He must 
be true.” 

“For him, sir, my own head shall answer, or 
even my rank in the regiment. I have seen him too 
often tried to doubt him.” 

“You have bethought you of the spare flints?” 

“A sergeant is a safe commander for all such 
details, your honor.” 

“Well, then, give me your hand, Dunham. 
God bless you, and may you be successful. And 
now, once more, farewell, sergeant. Beware of 
that Jasper, and consult with Muir in any difficulty. 
I shall expect you to return triumphant this day 
month.” 

“God bless your honor; if anything should 
happen to me I trust to you, Major Dunham, to 
care for an old soldier’s character.” 

“Rely on me, Dunham — you will rely on a friend. 
Be vigilant; remember you will be in the very jaws 


9 


1 30 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

of the lion, — pshaw, of no lion, neither, but of 
treacherous tigers, — in their very jaws, and beyond 
support. Have the flints counted and examined in 
the morning — and — farewell, Dunham, farewell.” 

So they parted, and soon the “Scud” was sailing 
on its voyage. The sergeant called Pathfinder 
into the cabin, and then told him Major Duncan’s 
doubts about Jasper Western. 

“I have known Jasper Western since he was a 
boy,” said Pathfinder, confidently, “and I have as 
much faith in his honesty as I have in my own, or 
that of the Sarpent himself.’ 

“But the Sarpent, Pathfinder, has his tricks and 
ambushes in war as well as another!” 

“Ay, them are his nat’ral gifts, and such as 
belong to his people. Neither redskin nor pale- 
face can deny natur’; but Chingachgook is not a 
man to feel a doubt ag’in.” 

“That I believe; nor should I have thought ill 
of Jasper this very morning. But it seems to me, 
Pathfinder, that somehow the lad does not bustle 
about his deck naturally, as he used to do, but that 
he is silent and moody and thoughtful, like a man 
who has a load on his consicence.” 

“Jasper is never noisy, and he tells me noisy 
ships are generally ill-worked ships. Master Cap 
agrees in this, too. No, no; I will believe naught 
against Jasper until I see it. Send for your brother, 
sergeant, and let us question him in this matter; 
for to sleep with distrust of one’s fri’nd in the heart 
is like sleeping with lead there. I have no faith 
in your doubtful feelings.” 


THE PATHFINDER 


The sergeant, although he scarce knew himself 
with what object, complied, and Cap was sum- 
moned to join in the consultation. 

The Pathfinder explained to Cap the nature of 
the suspicions which the sergeant held, and the 
reasons why they had been excited, so far as the 
latter had been communicated by Major Duncan. 

“The youngster talks French, does he?” 

“They say he speaks it better than common,” 
returned the sergeant gravely. “Pathfinder knows 
this to be true.” 

“Ell not gainsay it, I’ll not gainsay it,” answer- 
ed the guide, “at least they tell me such is the 
fact. But this would prove nothing ag’in a man like 
Jasper. I speak the Mingo dialect myself, having 
Parnt it while a prisoner among the reptyles; but 
who will say I am their fri’nd ?” 

“Ay, Pathfinder, but Jasper did not get his 
French as a prisoner: he took it in, in boyhood, 
when the mind is easily impressed, and gets its 
lasting notions. 

“A very just remark,” added Cap, “for that is 
the time of life when we all learn the catechism, 
and other moral improvements. The sergeant’s 
observation shows that he understands human 
nature, and I agree with him perfectly; it is a bad 
thing for a youngster, up here, on this bit of fresh 
water, to talk French. 

“Jasper is no Mingo, sergeant.” 

“Brother Cap, can you recollect no movement of 
this unfortunate young man, in the way of his 
calling, that would seem to denote treachery?” 


1 3 2 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


‘‘Not distinctly, sergeant, though he has gone 
to work wrong end foremost half his time. It is 
true that one of his hands coiled a rope against the 
sun, and he called it curling a rope, too, when I 
asked him what he was about; but I am not cer- 
tain that anything was meant by it; though I dare 
say the French coil half their running rigging the 
wrong way, and may call it ‘curling it down,’ too, 
for that matter. Then Jasper himself belayed the 
end of the jib-halyards to a stretcher in the rigging, 
instead of bringing them in to the mast, where they 
belong, — at least among British sailors.” 

“I dare say Jasper may have got some Canada 
notions about working his craft, from being so 
much on the other side,” Pathfinder interposed, 
“but catching an idee or a word isn’t treachery or 
bad faith. I sometimes get an idee from the Min- 
gos themselves, but my heart has always been with 
the Delawares. No, no; Jasper is true; and the 
king might trust him with his crown, just as he 
would trust his eldest son, who, as he is to wear it 
one day, ought to be the last man to wish to steal it.” 

But still they talked on against Jasper, and even 
Pathfinder could not convince the others that the 
young sailor was all right. He talked French, and 
did not call things by their sea names. These were 
enough to convict him with the sergeant and the 
seaman. 

For the next day everything that Jasper did was 
put down against him. The sergeant and Cap 
watched him closely, and found fault with him so 
constantly that the poor young sailor felt certain 


THE PATHFINDER 


133 

they had noticed how much he looked at Mabel, 
and were angry with him accordingly. 

Toward evening, Cap, who was standing in the 
forward part of the cutter, saw something on the 
water. 

“Sail, ho!” he shouted — or “Boat, ho!” would 
be nearer the truth. 

Jasper ran forward; and, sure enough, a small 
object was to be seen about a hundred yards ahead 
of the cutter, and nearly on her lee bow. At the 
first glance he saw it was a bark canoe. 

“This may be an enemy,” the young man 
remarked; “and it may be well to overhaul him.” 

“He is paddling with all his might, lad,” ob- 
served the Pathfinder, “and means to cross your 
bows and get to windward, when you might as well 
chase a full-grown buck on snow-shoes.” 

“Let her luff!” cried Jasper, to the man at the 
helm. “Luff up till she shakes — there, steady, 
and hold all that.” 

The helmsman complied, and as the “Scud” was 
now dashing the water aside merrily, a minute or 
two put the canoe so far to leeward as to render 
escape very difficult. Jasper now sprang to the 
helm. And by skilful and careful handling he got 
so near the canoe that it was secured by a boat 
hook. What was his surprise to find that its occu- 
pants were Arrowhead and his wife. 

Now, Arrowhead, you remember, was theTus- 
carora Indian who had guided Mabel and her 
uncle through the woods until they met Pathfinder. 
Then he had disappeared suddenly. 


134 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Everyone suspected him to be an enemy. So, 
when he was captured in his canoe, Pathfinder 
questioned him closely, but could learn nothing 
from him. 

It was determined however to hold him as a 
prisoner, but in the night Arrowhead seized a 
moment when he was not watched, cut his canoe 
loose, and with his wife paddled away into the 
darkness. But both Cap and the sergeant were 
sure that he had escaped through the help of 
Jasper Western, who had thereby shown that he 
was a traitor. 

At once, therefore, and without any explanation 
except that he had let Arrowhead escape, Jasper 
was told by Sergeant Dunham that he felt it to be 
his duty to deprjve him, for the present, of the 
command of the cutter, and to give it to his 
own brother-in-law. A natural burst of surprise 
which escaped the young man was met by a quiet 
remark, reminding him that military service was 
often of a nature that required concealment, and 
a declaration that the present was of such a charac- 
ter that this particular arrangement had become 
necessary. The young man was accustomed to 
obey with military submission; and he quietly 
submitted, with his own mouth directing the little 
crew to receive their further orders from Cap until, 
another change should be effected. When, how- 
ever, he was told the case required that not only 
he himself, but his principal assistant, who was 
usually termed the pilot, were to remain below, 
there was an alteration in his countenance and 


THE PATHFINDER 


135 


manner that denoted deep mortification, though 
it was so well mastered as to leave even the dis- 
trustful Cap in doubt as to its meaning. 

As soon as Jasper and the pilot were below, the 
sentinel at the hatch received private orders to pay 
particular attention to both; to allow neither to 
come on deck again without giving instant notice 
to the person who might then be in charge of the 
cutter, and to insist on his return below as soon as 
possible. This precaution, however, was uncalled 
for, Jasper and his assistant both throwing them- 
selves silently on their beds, which neither quitted 
again that night. 

But now, when Cap set about sailing the “Scud,” 
he found things so different from on shipboard at 
sea that he soon got all snarled up. The sailors 
did not understand his orders; he did not have the 
fresh-water names for things, and he did not know 
which way to steer, as both the captain and pilot 
had been sent below. 

So they had all sorts of troubles. Twice they 
very nearly ran ashore; they lost their course so 
badly that they sailed in the wrong direction, and 
actually passed the fort which they had left the day 
before. Then they were nearly captured by a 
French vessel, and when the wind blew up a storm 
they would really have been shipwrecked had not 
the sergeant come to the conclusion that Jasper 
knew how to sail on the lake better than .Cap, and 
called him up, just in the nick of time to save the 
“Scud” from going ashore. And so they were 
saved. 


136 leatherstocking tales 


Jasper came about, and headed his vessel for 
the point which was their original destination, the 
fort on Station Island, in the St. Lawrence. He 
had to keep a sharp lookout, however. He knew 
that the northern shore of the lake was lined with 
French forts and blockhouses, and that the French 
vessel they had but barely escaped was somewhere 
on the lake in search of the “Scud.” So he sailed 
cautiously. 

When the sun was setting the “ Scud ” was 
already a hundred miles on her route toward 
Oswego, into which river Sergeant Dunham now 
thought it his duty to go, in order to receive any 
communications that Major Duncan might please 
to make. 

When the next day dawned the cutter had the 
mouth of the Oswego well under her lee, distant 
about two miles, and just as the morning gun from 
the Fort was fired, Jasper gave the order to ease 
off the sheets and to bear up for his port. At that 
moment a cry from the forecastle drew all eyes 
toward the point on the eastern side of the outlet 
and there, just without the range of shot from the 
light guns of the works, with her canvas reduced to 
barely enough to keep her stationary, lay the F rench 
vessel they had escaped, the “Montcalm,” as she 
was called, and evidently in waiting for their 
appearance. To pass her was impossible, for, by 
filling her sails, the French ship could have caught 
up to them in a few minutes, and the condition of 
affairs called for a prompt decision. After a short 
consultation the sergeant again changed his plan, 


THE PATHFINDER 


l 37 


determining to make the best of his way toward the 
station for which he had been originally destined, 
trusting to the speed of the “Scud” to throw the 
enemy so far astern as to leave no clew to her move- 
ments. 

The cutter accordingly hauled up on the wind 
with the least possible delay, with everything set 
that would draw. Guns were fired from the Fort, 
ensigns shown, and the ramparts were again 
crowded. But sympathy was all the aid that 
Major Duncan could lend to his party; and the 
“Montcalm,” also firing four or five guns of de- 
fiance, and throwing abroad several of the banners 
of France, was soon in chase, under a cloud of 
canvas. 

For several hours the two vessels were pressing 
through the water as fast as possible, making short 
stretches to windward, apparently with a view to 
keep the port under their lee, the one to enter it, 
if possible, and the other to defeat it in the attempt. 

At noon the French ship was hull down dead to 
leeward, the disadvantage of sailing on a wind being 
very great, and some islands were nearby, behind 
which Jasper said it would be possible for the 
cutter to hide her future movements. Although 
Cap and the sergeant, and particularly Lieuten- 
ant Muir, to judge by his language, still felt a good 
deal of distrust of the young man, and though the 
French lake-port and station of Frontenac was not 
distant, this advice was followed, for time pressed, 
and the quartermaster wisely said that Jasper 
could not well betray them without running openly 


138 leatherstocking tales 


into the enemy’s harbor — a step they could at any 
time prevent, since the only cruiser of force the 
French possessed at the moment was under their 
lee, and not in a situation to do them any immedi- 
ate injury. 

Left to himself, Jasper Western soon proved 
how much was really in him. He weathered upon 
the islands, passed them, and, on coming out to 
the eastward, kept broad away, with nothing in 
sight in his wake or to leeward. By sunset again 
the cutter was up with the first of the islands that 
lie in the outlet of the lake, and ere it was dark she 
was running through the narrow channels on her 
way to the long-sought station. At nine o’clock, 
however, Cap insisted that they should anchor, for 
the maze of the islands became so twisted and 
obscure that he feared at every opening the party 
would find themselves under the guns of a French 
fort. Jasper consented cheerfully, it being a part 
of his standing instructions to approach the station 
in such a manner as would prevent the men from 
obtaining any very exact notion of its position, lest 
a deserter might betray the little garrison to the 
enemy. 

The “Scud” was brought to in a small, retired 
bay, where it would have been difficult to find her 
by daylight, and where she was perfectly hidden 
at night, when all but a solitary sentinel on deck 
sought their rest. 

The next morning, under Jasper’s marvelous 
piloting among the countless islands and through 
the winding channel, they safely reached the sta- 


THE PATHFINDER 


*39 


tion, and the soldiers were greeted by their waiting 
comrades with the satisfaction that a relief usually 
brings. 

Mabel sprang upon the shore with a delight 
which she did not care to express, and her father 
led his men after her with a quickness which proved 
how wearied he had become of the cutter. The 
station, as the place was familiarly termed by the 
soldiers of the Fifty-fifth, was indeed a spot to raise 
expectations of enjoyment among those who had 
been cooped up so long in a vessel of the size of the 
“Scud.” None of the islands were high, though all 
lay at a sufficient elevation above the water to 
render them perfectly healthy and secure. Each 
had more or less wood, and the greater number, at 
that distant day, were clothed with the native 
forest. The one selected by the troops for their 
purpose was small, containing about twenty acres 
of land, and by some of the accidents of the wilder- 
ness it had been partly stripped of its trees, prob- 
ably centuries before the period of which we are 
writing, and a little grassy glade covered nearly 
half its surface. 

The shores of Station Island were completely 
fringed with bushes, and great care had been taken 
to preserve them, as they answered as a screen to 
conceal the persons and things collected within 
their circle. Favored by this shelter, as well as by 
that of several thickets of trees and different copses, 
some six or eight low huts had been erected to be 
used as quarters for the officer and his men, to con- 
tain stores, and to serve the purpose of kitchens, 


I 4 0 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


hospital, etc. These huts were built oflogs in the 
usual manner, had been roofed by bark brought 
from a distance, lest the signs of labor should 
attract attention, and, as they had now been 
inhabited some months, were as comfortable as 
dwellings of that description usually get to be. 

At the eastern extremity of the island, however, 
was a small, densely wooded peninsula, with a 
thicket of underbrush so closely matted as nearly 
to prevent the possibility of seeing across it so long 
as the leaves remained on the branches. Near the 
narrow neck that connected this acre with the rest 
of the island, a small blockhouse had been erected 
with some attention to its means of resistance. 
The logs were bullet-proof, squared, and jointed 
with a care to leave no defenseless points; the 
windows were loop-holes; the door massive and 
small; and the roof, like the rest of the structure, 
was framed of hewn timber, covered properly with 
bark to exclude the rain. The lower apartment, as 
usual, contained stores and provisions; here, 
indeed, the party kept all their supplies; the second 
story was intended for a dwelling as well as for the 
citadel, and a low garret was subdivided into two 
or three rooms, and could hold the cots on which 
the soldiers slept, ten or fifteen in number. All 
the arrangements were exceedingly simple and 
cheap, but they were sufficient to protect the sol- 
diers against suprise. As the whole building was 
considerably less than forty feet high, its summit 
was hidden by the tops of trees, except from the 
eyes of those who had reached the interior of the 


THE PATHFINDER 


141 

island. On that side the view was open from the 
upper loops, though bushes, even there, more or 
less concealed the base of the wooden tower. 

The object being purely defense, care had been 
taken to place the blockhouse so near an opening 
in the limestone rock that formed the base of the 
island as to admit of a bucket being dropped into 
the water in order to obtain that great necessity 
in the time of a siege. In order to do this more 
easily and to protect the base of the building, the 
upper stories projected several feet beyond the 
lower, in the manner usual to blockhouses, and 
pieces' of wood filled the apertures cut in the log 
flooring, which were intended as loops and traps. 
The different stories were reached by means of 
ladders. 

The hour that followed the arrival of the “Scud” 
was one of hurried excitement. The party on the 
island had done nothing worthy of being mentioned, 
and, wearied with their loneliness, they were all 
eager to return to Oswego. The sergeant and the 
officer he came to relieve had no sooner gone 
through the little ceremonies of transferring the 
command than the latter hurried on board the 
“Scud” with his whole party, and Jasper, who 
would gladly have passed the day on' the island, 
was required to get under way forthwith, the wind 
promising a quick passage up the river and across 
the lake. Before separating, however, Lieutenant 
Muir, Cap, and the sergeant had a private talk 
with the ensign who had been relieved, in which 
the latter was made acquainted with the suspicions 


142 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


that were felt against the fidelity of the young 
sailor. Promising due caution the officer em- 
barked, and in less than three hours from the time 
when she had arrived the cutter was again in 
motion. Mabel had taken possession of a hut, and 
with female readiness and skill, she made all the 
simple little household arrangements of which 
the circumstances would admit, not only for her 
own comfort but for that of her father. To save 
labor a mess table was prepared in a hut set apart 
for that purpose, where all the heads of the detach- 
ments were to eat, the soldier’s wife performing 
the necessary labor. The hut of the sergeant 
was the best on the island. 

As soon as these important duties were completed 
she strolled out on the island, taking a path that 
led through the pretty glade, and which led to the 
only point that was not covered with bushes. 
Here she stood gazing at the limpid water which 
lay, with scarcely a ruffle on it, at her feet, musing 
on the novel situation in which she was placed, 
and permitting a pleasing and deep excitement to 
steal over her feelings as she remembered the 
scenes through which she had so lately passed, and 
guessed at those which still lay veiled in the future. 

Lieutenant Muir came to call on Mabel, and to 
talk as sweetly as he could to her; but she did not 
care to listen to him, and was well pleased when 
Pathfinder came and with some difficulty succeeded 
in taking his place. For some little time they sat 
enjoying the beautiful scene, talking over the 
exciting experiences of the recent journey, and the 


THE PATHFINDER 


H3 


events which had transpired at the Fort. But 
Pathfinder was now in turn called away by the 
lieutenant, who seemed to have something of 
importance to tell him. 

“We hold,” he said, “an exceedingly dangerous 
and uncertain position here, — almost in the jaws 
of the lion, as it were. There are savages, out 
scouting through these thousand islands and over 
the forest, searching for this very spot, and the 
greatest service you can render the regiment is to 
discover their trails and lead them off on a false 
scent. Unhappily, Sergeant Dunham has taken 
up the notion that the danger is to be looked for 
up-stream, because Frontenac lies above us; 
whereas all experience tells us that Indians come 
on the side that is most contrary to reason, and 
consequently are to be expected from below. Take 
your canoe, therefore, and go down stream among 
the islands, that we may have notice if any danger 
approaches from that quarter.” 

“The Big Sarpent is on the lookout in that 
quarter,” said Pathfinder, “and as he knows the 
station well, no doubt he will give us timely notice 
should any wish to sarcumvent or cheat us in that 
direction.” 

“He is but an Indian, after all, Pathfinder, and 
this is an affair that calls for the knowledge of a 
white man. 

The quartermaster then continued to reason 
with his companion in order to induce him to quit 
the island without delay, using such arguments as 
first suggested themselves, sometimes contradicting 


144 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


himself and not infrequently urging at one moment 
a motive that at the next was directly opposed by 
another. The Pathfinder, simple as he was, 
saw these flaws in the lieutenant’s reasoning, 
though he was far from suspecting that they pro- 
ceeded from a desire to clear the coast of Mabel’s 
suitor. He did not exactly suspect the secret 
objects of Muir, but he was far from being blind 
to his poor reasoning. The result was that the 
two parted, after a long dialogue, unconvinced and 
distrustful of each other’s motives, though the 
distrust of the guide, like all that was connected 
with the man, partook of his own upright, disinter- 
ested, and open nature. 

A meeting that took place soon after between 
Sergeant Dunham and the lieutenant led to more 
consequences. When it was ended secret orders 
were issued to the men, the blockhouse was taken 
possession of, the huts were occupied, and one 
accustomed to the movements of soldiers might 
have perceived that an expedition was in the wind. 
In fact, just as the sun was setting, the sergeant, 
came into his own hut, followed by Pathfinder 
and Cap, and, as he took his seat at the neat table 
that Mabel had prepared for him, he opened the 
budget of his news. 

“You are likely to be of some use here, my 
child,” the old soldier commenced, “as this tidy 
and well-ordered supper can testify; and I trust 
when the proper moment arrives you will show 
yourself to be the descendant of those who know 
how to face their enemies. 


THE PATHFINDER 


45 


“ Lest you should be surprised at not seeing us 
when you awake in the morning, it is proper that 
I now tell you we intend to march in the course of 
this very night.” 

“We, father — and leave me and Jennie on this 
island alone!” 

“No, my daughter, not quite as unmilitary as 
that. We shall leave Lieutenant Muir, Brother 
Cap, Corporal McNab, and three men, to compose 
the garrison during our absence. Jennie will 
remain with you in this hut and Brother Cap will 
occupy my place.” 

Mabel did not like the idea of having Lieutenant 
Muir as a companion, but her father continued: 

“Neither you nor Mabel, Brother Cap,” he said, 
“can have any legal authority with the garrison I 
leave behind on the island, but you may counsel 
and influence. Strictly speaking, Corporal Mc- 
Nab will be the commanding officer, and I have 
endeavored to impress him with a sense of his 
dignity, lest he might give way too much to the 
superior rank of Lieutenant Muir, who, being a 
volunteer, can have no right to interfere with the 
duty. I wish you to sustain the corporal, Brother 
Cap, for should the quartermaster once break 
through the regulations of the expedition he may 
pretend to command me as well as McNab.” 

“Of course, sergeant, you’ll leave everything that 
is afloat under my care. The greatest confusion 
has grown out of misunderstandings between com- 
manders-in-chief ashore and afloat.” 

“In one sense, brother, though in a general way 


10 


146 leatherstocking tales 


the corporal is commander-in-chief. The cor- 
poral must command, but you can counsel freely, 
particularly in all matters relating to the boats, of 
which I shall leave one behind to secure your re- 
treat should there be occasion. I know the cor- 
poral well — he is a brave man and a good soldier, 
and one that may be relied on. But then, he is 
a Scotchman, and will be liable to the quarter- 
master’s influence, against which I desire both you 
and Mabel to be on your guard.” 

“But why leave us behind, dear father ? I have 
come thus far to be a comfort to you, and why not 
go farther ?” 

“You are a good girl, Mabel, and very like the 
Dunhams! But you must halt here. We shall 
leave the island to-morrow before the day dawns, 
in order not to be seen by any prying eyes, and shall 
take the two largest boats, leaving you the other and 
one bark canoe. We are about to go into the chan- 
nel used by the French, where we shall lie in wait 
perhaps a week to catch their supply boats that are 
about to pass up on their way to Frontenac, loaded 
in particular with a heavy amount of Indian goods.” 

Supper was no sooner ended than the sergeant 
dismissed his guests, and then held a long and 
confidential talk with his daughter. He was 
little used to giving way to the gentler emotions, 
but the novelty of his present situation awakened 
feelings to which he was unused. 

The talk between father and daughter was long 
and affectionate, and when it was over the old 
sergeant kissed her fondly. 


THE PATHFINDER 


H7 


“God bless and protect you, girl,” he said, “you 
are a good daughter.” 

Mabel threw herself in her father’s arms, and 
sobbed on his bosom like an infant. The stern 
old soldier’s heart was melted, and the tears of the 
two mingled; but Sergeant Dunham soon started, 
as if ashamed of himself, and gently forcing his 
daughter from him, bade her good-night, and 
sought his couch. Mabel went sobbing to the 
rude corner that had been prepared for her recep- 
tion, and in a few minutes the hut was undisturbed 
by any sound save the heavy breathing of the 
veteran. 

It was not only broad daylight when she awoke, 
but the sun had actually been up some time. Her 
sleep had been tranquil, for she rested on an approv- 
ing conscience, and fatigue helped to render it 
sweet, and no sound of those who had been so early 
in motion had interfered with her rest. Springing 
to her feet, and rapidly dressing herself, the girl was 
soon breathing the fragrance of the morning in the 
open air. For the first time she was sensibly struck 
with the singular beauties, as well as with the pro- 
found retirement, of her present situation. 

But the island seemed absolutely deserted. The 
previous night the bustle of the arrival had given 
the spot an appearance of life that was now entirely 
gone, and our heroine had turned her eyes around 
on nearly every object in sight before she caught a 
view of a single human being to remove the sense 
of utter solitude. Then, indeed, she beheld all 
who were left behind, collected in a group, around 


148 leatherstocking tales 


a fire which might be said to belong to the camp. 
Beside Cap and the quartermaster, there were the 
corporal, the three soldiers, and the woman who 
was cooking. The huts were silent and empty, 
and the low but tower-like summit of the block- 
house rose above the bushes, by which it was half 
concealed, in picturesque beauty. 

Perceiving that all the others were occupied with 
that great concern of human nature, a breakfast, 
Mabel walked unobserved toward an end of the 
island where she was completely shut out of view 
by the trees and bushes. Here she got a stand on 
the very edge of the water by forcing aside the low 
branches, and stood watching the barely percepti- 
ble flow and re-flow of the miniature waves that 
washed the shore. She gazed through the differ- 
ent vistas formed by the openings between the 
islands, and thought she had never looked on 
aught more lovely. 

While thus occupied, Mabel was suddenly 
alarmed by fancying that she caught a glimpse of a 
human form among the bushes that lined the shore 
of the island that lay directly before her. Aware 
that her sex would be no protection against a rifle- 
bullet, should an Iroquois get a view of her, the 
girl instinctively drew back, taking care to conceal 
her person as much as possible by the leaves, while 
she kept her own look riveted on the opposite shore, 
vainly awaiting for some time in the expectation of 
seeing the stranger. She was about to quit her 
post in the bushes and hasten to her uncle in order 
to tell him of her suspicions, when she saw the 


THE PATHFINDER 


149 


branch of an alder thrust beyond the bushes on the 
other island, and waved toward her significantly, 
and, as she fancied, in token of friendliness. This 
was a breathless and trying moment to one as 
unacquainted with frontier warfare as our heroine, 
and yet she felt the great necessity that existed for 
preserving her self-control and of acting with 
steadiness and discretion. 

It at once struck her that now was the moment 
for her to show that she was Sergeant Dunham’s 
child. The motion of the branch was such as, she 
believed, indicated friendliness; and, after a mo- 
ment’s hesitation, she broke off a twig, fastened 
it to a stick, and, thrusting it through an opening, 
waved it in return, imitating as closely as possible 
the manner of the other. 

This dumb show lasted two or three minutes on 
both sides, when Mabel perceived that the bushes 
opposite were cautiously pushed aside, and a 
human face appeared at an opening. A glance 
sufficed to let Mabel see that it was the counte- 
nance of a redskin, as well as that of a woman. A 
second and a better look satisfied her that it was the 
face of June, the wife of Arrowhead, the Tuscarora. 
During the time she had traveled in company with 
this woman, Mabel had been won by the gentleness 
of manner, the meek simplicity, and the mingled 
awe and affection with which she regarded her 
husband. The squaw had shown much attach- 
ment to her, and they had parted with a deep 
feeling in the mind of our heroine that in June she 
had lost a friend. 


1 50 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

She no longer hesitated about showing herself 
clear of the bushes, and was not sorry to see June 
imitate her confidence by stepping fearlessly out 
of her own cover. The two girls — for the Tusca- 
rora, though married, was even younger than 
Mabel — now openly exchanged signs of friendship, 
and the latter beckoned to her friend to approach, 
though she knew not how in which this object could 
be effected. But June was not slow in letting it be 
seen that it was in her power; for, disappearing a 
moment, she soon showed herself again in the end 
of a bark canoe, the bows of which she had drawn 
to the edge of the bushes, and of which the body 
still lay in a sort of covered creek. 

With half a dozen noiseless strokes of the paddle 
June concealed her canoe in the bushes of Station 
Island. In another minute Mabel held her hand, 
and was leading her through the grove toward her 
own hut. Fortunately the latter was so placed as 
to be completely hidden from the sight of those at 
the fire, and they both entered it unseen. Hastily 
explaining to her guest, in the best manner she 
could, the necessity of quitting her for a short 
time, Mabel, first placing June in her own room, 
with a full certainty that she would not quit it until 
told to do so, went to the fire and took her seat 
among the rest, with all the composure it was in her 
power to command. 

“Late come, late served, Mabel,” said her 
uncle, between two mouthfuls of broiled salmon, 
for though the cooking might be very simple on 
that remote frontier, the food was generally deli- 


THE PATHFINDER 


cious; “late come, late served : it is a good rule, and 
keeps laggards up to their work.” 

“I am no laggard, uncle, for I have been stirring 
near an hour, and exploring our island.” 

That was the only explanation that Mabel gave 
of her lateness, and, in fact, to most of the conver- 
sation during breakfast she paid but little atten- 
tion, though she felt some surprise that Lieutenant 
Muir, an officer whose character for courage stood 
well, should openly recommend, as he did in his 
talk, an abandonment of what appeared to her to 
be a double duty, her father’s character being 
connected with the defense of the island. Her 
mind, however, was so much occupied with her 
guest, that, seizing the first favorable moment, 
she left the table, and was soon in her own hut 
again. Carefully fastening the door, and seeing 
that the curtain was drawn before the single little 
window, Mabel led June into the outer room, 
making signs of affection and confidence. 

“I am glad to see you, June,” said Mabel, with 
one of her sweetest smiles, and in her own winning 
voice; “very glad to see you. What has brought 
you hither, and how did you discover the island ?” 

“Talk slow,” said June, returning smile for 
smile, and pressing the little hand she held with one 
of her own, that was scarcely larger, though it had 
been hardened by labor, “more slow — too quick.” 

Mabel repeated her questions, trying to check 
the earnestness of her feelings, and she succeeded 
in speaking so distinctly as to be understood. 

“June, friend,” returned the Indian woman. 


i 5 2 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“I believe you, June — from my soul I believe you; 
what has this to do with your visit ?” 

“Friend come to see friend,” answered June, 
again smiling openly in the other’s face. 

“There is some other reason, June, else would 
you never run this risk, and alone — you are alone, 
June ?” 

“June wid you — no one else. June come alone, 
paddle canoe.” 

“I hope so — I think so — nay, I know so. You 
would not be treacherous with me, June ?” 

“What treacherous?” 

“You would not betray me — would not give me 
to the French — to the Iroquois — to Arrowhead” — 
June shook her head earnestly — “you would not 
sell my scalp ?” 

Here June passed her arm fondly around the 
slender waist of Mabel, and pressed her to her 
heart, with a tenderness and affection that brought 
tears into the eyes of our heroine. It was done in 
the fond caressing manner of a woman, and it was 
scarcely possible that it should not obtain credit 
for sincerity with a young and open-hearted person 
of the same sex. Mabel returned the pressure, 
and then, looking her steadily in the face, continued 
her inquiries. 

“ifj une has something to tell her friend, let her 
speak plainly,” she said. “My ears are open.” 

“June Traid Arrowhead kill her.” 

“But Arrowhead will never know it.” Mabel’s 
blood mounted to her temples as she said this, for 
she felt that she was urging a wife to be treacher- 


THE PATHFINDER 


*53 


ous to her husband. “That is, Mabel will not tell 
him.” 

“Blockhouse good place to sleep — good place to 
stay.” 

“Do you mean that I may save my life by keep- 
ing in the blockhouse, June? Surely, surely, 
Arrowhead will not hurt you for telling me that. 
He can not wish me any great harm, for I never 
injured him.” 

“Arrowhead wish no harm to handsome pale- 
face,” returned June, averting her face, and, 
though she always spoke in the soft gentle voice of 
an Indian girl, permitting its notes to fall so low 
as to cause them to sound melancholy and timid. 
“Arrowhead love paleface girl.” 

Mabel blushed, she knew not why, and for a 
moment her questions were repressed by a feeling 
of inherent delicacy. But it was necessary to 
know more, for her apprehensions had been 
keenly awakened, and she resumed her inquiries. 

“But, tell me, June, ought I keep in the block- 
house to-day — this morning — now ?” 

“Blockhouse very good; good for squaw. 
Blockhouse got no scalp.” 

“I fear I understand you only too well, June. 
Do you wish to see my father ?” 

“No here; gone away.” 

“You can not know that, June; you see. the 
island is full of his soldiers.” 

“No full; gone away” — here June held up four 
of her fingers — “so many redcoats.” 

“And Pathfinder — would you not like to see the 


1 54 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Pathfinder ? He can talk to you in the Iroquois 
tongue.” 

“Tongue gone wid him,” said June, laughing; 
“keep tongue in his mout/ ” 

There was something so sweet and contagious 
in the infantile laugh of the Indian girl that Mabel 
could not refrain from joining in it, much as her 
fears were aroused by all that had passed. 

“You appear to know, or think you know, all 
about us, June. But, if Pathfinder be gone, 
Jasper Western can speak French, too. You 
know Jasper Western; shall I run and bring him 
to talk with you ?” 

“Jasper gone, too; all but heart; that there.” 
As June said this, she laughed again, and laid her 
hand on Mabel's bosom. 

Our heroine had often heard of the wonderful 
shrewdness of the Indians, and of the surprising 
manner in which they noted all things, while they 
appeared to regard none, but she was scarce pre- 
pared for the direction the talk had so singularly 
taken. She hoped to hear more of what she really 
desired to learn, and to avoid allusions to that 
which she found so embarrassing. 

“You know how much or how little you ought 
to tell me, June,” she said, “and I hope you love 
me well enough to give me the information I ought 
to hear. My dear uncle, too, is on the island, and 
you are, or ought to be, his friend, as well as mine; 
and both of us will remember your conduct when 
we get back to Oswego.” 

“Blockhouse very good,” she repeated, as soon 


THE PATHFINDER 


x 55 


as her countenance ceased to express uncertainty, 
laying strong emphasis on the two last words. 

“Well, I understand this, June, and will sleep 
in it to-night’ 

“You appear to think you know our situation 
pretty well, June,” Mabel continued. “Have you 
been on the island before this visit?” 

“Just come.” 

“How, then, do you know that what you say is 
true ? My father, the Pathfinder, and Jasper may 
all be here within the sound of my voice, if I choose 
to call them.” 

“All gone,” said June, positively, smiling good- 
humoredly at the same time. 

“Nay, this is more than you can say certainly, 
not having been over the island to examine it.” 

“Got good eyes; see boat with men go away — 
see ship with Jasper.” 

“Then you have been some time watching us; 
I think, however, you have not counted them that 
remain.” 

June laughed, held up her four fingers, and then 
pointed to her two thumbs; passing her finger 
over the first, she repeated the word “redcoats,” 
and, touching the last, she added, “Saltwater,” 
“Quartermaster.” 

“You think, then, June,” Mabel continued, 
“that I had better live in the blockhouse ?” 

“Good place for squaw. Blockhouse got no 
scalp. Logs Pick.” 

“Does anyone but yourself know how to find 
this island ? Have any of the Iroquois seen it ?” 


156 leatherstocking tales 


“Much eye, Iroquois/’ 

“Eyes will not always do, June. This spot is 
hid from sight, and few of even our own people 
know how to find it.” 

“One man can tell — some English talk French.” 

Mabel felt a chill at her heart. All the sus- 
picions against Jasper, which she had hitherto 
refused to allow, crowded in a body on her thoughts, 
and the sensation that they brought was so sicken- 
ing that for an instant she imagined she was about 
to faint. Arousing herself, and remembering her 
promise to her father, she arose and walked up and 
down the hut for a minute, fancying that Jasper’s 
wrong-doings were naught to her, though her 
inmost heart yearned with the desire to think him 
innocent. 

“I understand your meaning, June,” she then 
said. “You wish me to know that someone has 
treacherously told your people where and how to 
find the island.” 

June laughed, for in her eyes artifice in war was 
oftener a merit than a crime; but she was too true 
to the tribe herself to say more than the occasion 
required. 

“Paleface know now,” she added. “Blockhouse 
good for girl — no matter for men and warriors.” 

“But it is much matter with me, June, for one of 
these men is my uncle, whom I love, and the others 
are my countrymen and friends. I must tell them 
what has passed.” 

“Then June be kill,” returned the young Indian 
quietly, though she spoke with concern. 


THE PATHFINDER 


157 


“No — they shall not know that you have been 
here. Still, they must be on their guard, and we 
can all go into the blockhouse.” 

“Arrowhead know — see everything, and June be 
kill. June come to tell young paleface friend, not 
to tell men. Every warrior watch his own scalp. 
June squaw, and tell squaw; no tell men.” 

Mabel was greatly distressed at this declaration 
of her wild friend, for it was now evident the young 
creature understood that her words were to go no 
farther. 

“June,” she said eagerly, folding her arms round 
the gentle but uneducated being, “we are friends. 
From me you have nothing to fear, for no one shall 
know of your visit. If you could give me some 
signal just before the danger comes, some sign by 
which to know when to go into the blockhouse — 
how to take care of myself.” 

June paused, for she had been in earnest in her 
intention to depart; and then she said quietly: 

“Bring June pigeon.” 

“A pigeon! Where shall I find a pigeon to bring 
you r 

“Next hut — bring old one — June go to canoe.” 

“I think I understand you, June; but had I not 
better lead you back to the bushes, lest you meet 
some of the men ?” 

“Go out first— count men — one — two — Free — 
four — five — six” — here June held up her fingers 
and laughed — “all out of way — good — all but one 
— call him one side. Then sing, and fetch pigeon.” 

Mabel smiled at the readiness and ingenuity of 


158 leatherstocking tales 


the girl, and prepared to execute her requests. 
At the door, however, she stopped, and looked 
back entreating, at the Indian woman. 

“Is there no hope of your telling me more, 
June ?” she said. 

“Know all now — blockhouse good — pigeon tell 
— Arrowhead kill.” 

The last words sufficed; for Mabel could not 
urge her to tell more when her companion herself 
told her that the penalty of her revelations might 
be death by the hand of her husband. Throw- 
ing open the door, she made a sign of farewell 
to June, and went out of the hut. Instead of 
looking about her with the intention of recognizing 
faces and dresses, she merely counted them; and 
found that three still remained at the fire, while 
two had gone to the boat, one of whom was Mr. 
Muir. The sixth man was her uncle, and he was 
coolly arranging some fishing-tackle, at no great 
distance from the fire. The woman was just 
entering her own hut; and this accounted for the 
whole party. Mabel now, affecting to have 
dropped something, returned nearly to the hut she 
had left, warbling an air, stooped as if to pick up 
some object from the ground, and hurried toward 
the hut June had mentioned. This building was 
almost in ruins and it had been converted by the 
soldiers of the last detachment into a sort of store- 
house for their live stock. Among other things, 
it contained a few dozen pigeons, which were feed- 
ing on a pile of wheat that had been brought off 
from one of the farms plundered on the Canada 


THE PATHFINDER 


*59 


shore. Mabel had not much difficulty in catching 
one of these pigeons, and, concealing it in her dress, 
she stole back toward her own hut with the prize. 
It was empty; and, without doing more than cast 
a glance in at the door, the eager girl hurried down 
to the shore. At the canoe she found June, who 
took the pigeon, placed it in a basket of her 
own making, and repeating the words, “Block- 
house good,” glided out of the bushes and across 
the narrow passage as noiselessly as she had 
come. 

On returning, however, from the shore, Mabel 
was struck with a little circumstance that, in an 
ordinary situation, would have attracted no atten- 
tion, but which, now that her suspicions had been 
aroused, did not pass before her uneasy eye un- 
noticed. A small piece of red bunting, such as is 
used in the ensigns of ships, was fluttering at the 
lower branch of a small tree, fastened in a way to 
permit it to blow out, or to droop like a vessel’s 
pennant. 

She saw at a glance that this bit of cloth could be 
observed from an adjacent island; that it lay so 
near the line between her own hut and the canoe, 
as to leave no doubt that June had passed near it, 
if not directly under it; and that it might be a 
signal to communicate some important fact con- 
nected with the mode of attack to those who were 
probably lying in ambush near them. Tearing 
the little strip of bunting from the tree, f Mabel 
hastened on, scarce knowing what duty next 
required. June might be false to her; but her 


i6o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


manner, her looks, her affection, and her disposi- 
tion, as Mabel had known it in the journey, for- 
bade the idea. 

As she walked toward the blockhouse she met 
Lieutenant Muir, who, after a few words of com- 
pliment, said, suddenly, “What is that you’re 
twisting round your slender finger, Mistress Mabel, 
as you may be said to twist hearts ?” 

“It is nothing but a bit of cloth — a sort of flag — 
a trifle that is hardly worth our attention at this 
grave moment — if — ” 

“A trifle ! It’s not so trifling as you may imagine, 
Mistress Mabel,” taking the bit of bunting from 
her and stretching it at full length with both his 
arms extended, while his face grew grave and his 
eye watchful. “You didn’t find this, Mabel Dun- 
ham, in the breakfast, did you ?” 

Mabel simply told him of the spot where, and 
the manner in which she had found the bit of cloth. 
While she was speaking the eye of the quarter- 
master was not quiet for a moment, glancing from 
the rag to the face of our heroine, then back again 
to the rag. That his suspicions were awakened 
was easy to be seen, nor was he long in letting it be 
known what direction they had taken. 

“We are not in a part of the world where our 
ensigns ought to be spread abroad to the wind, 
Mabel Dunham!” he said, with an ominous shake 
of the head. 

“I thought as much myself, Mr. Muir, and 
brought away the little flag, lest it might be the 
means of betraying our presence here to the enemy, 


THE PATHFINDER 


161 


even though nothing is intended by its display. 
Ought not my uncle to be told of this ?” 

“I don’t see the necessity for that, Mabel, for, 
it is a circumstance, and circumstances sometimes 
worry the worthy mariner. But this flag, if flag it 
can be called, belongs to a seaman’s craft. It’s 
surprisingly like the fly of the ‘Scud’s’ ensign! 
And now I recollect me to have observed that a 
piece had been cut from that very flag!” 

Mabel felt her heart sink, but she had sufficient 
self-command not to attempt an answer. 

“It must be looked to,” Muir continued, “and, 
after all, I think it may be well to hold a short 
consultation with Master Cap.” 

“I have thought the warning so serious,” Mabel 
rejoined, “that I am about to remove to the block- 
house and to take the woman with me.” 

She took a hasty leave of her companion, and 
was about to trip away toward the hut of the other 
woman, when Muir arrested the movement by 
laying a hand on her arm. 

“One word, Mabel,” he said, “before you leave 
me. This little flag may, or it may not, have a 
particular meaning; if it has, now that we are 
aware of its being shown, may it not be better to 
put it back again, while we watch carefully for 
some answer that may betray the plot; and if it 
mean nothing, why, nothing will follow.” 

“This may be all right, Mr. Muir, though, if the 
whole is accidental, the flag might be the occasion 
of the Fort being discovered.” 

Mabel stayed to utter no more, but she was soon 


11 


162 leatherstocking tales 


out of sight, running into the hut toward which she 
had been first going. The quartermaster remained 
on the very spot, and in the precise attitude in 
which she had left him, for quite a minute, first 
looking at the bounding figure of the girl, and then 
at the bit of bunting, which he still held before 
him. His irresolution lasted but for this minute, 
however, for he was soon beneath the tree, where 
he fastened the mimic flag to a branch again; 
though from his ignorance of the precise spot from 
which it had been taken by Mabel, he left it flut- 
tering from a part of the oak where it was still 
more exposed than before to the eyes of any passen- 
ger on the river, though less in view from the island 
itself. 

Removing at once into the blockhouse, as June 
had advised, Mabel left Jennie, the soldier’s wife, 
in charge, and went, herself, to see how matters 
stood. 

But, even as she stood talking with Corporal 
McNab, whom her father had left in charge, the 
sharp crack of a rifle sounded from the thicket, and 
the corporal fell dead at her feet. 

Then came over Mabel the full consciousness 
of her situation, and of the necessity of exertion. 
She cast a rapid glance at the body at her feet, saw 
that it had ceased to breathe, and fled. It was 
but a few minutes’ run to the blockhouse, the door 
of which Mabel had barely gained when it was 
closed violently in her face by Jennie, the soldier’s 
wife, who, in blind terror, thought only of her own 
safety. The reports of five or six rifles were heard 


THE PATHFINDER 


163 


while Mabel was calling out for admittance; and 
the additional terror they produced prevented the 
woman within from undoing quickly the very fasten- 
ings she had been so very expert in applying. After 
a minute’s delay, however, Mabel found the door 
reluctantly yielding to her constant pressure, and 
she forced her slender body through the opening the 
instant it was large enough to allow of its passage. 
Instead of yielding to the almost convulsive efforts 
of her companion to close the door again, she held 
it open long enough to ascertain that none of her 
own party was in sight, or likely, on the instant, 
to endeavor to gain admission; she then allowed 
the opening to be shut. She then ascended the 
ladder to the room above, where, by means of 
loopholes, she was enabled to get as good a view 
of the island as the surrounding bushes would 
allow. 

To her great surprise, Mabel could not, at first, 
see a living soul on the island, friend or enemy. 
Neither Frenchman nor Indian was visible, though 
a small, straggling white cloud, that was floating 
before the wind, told her in which quarter she 
ought to look for them. The rifles had been dis- 
charged from the direction of the island whence 
June had come, though whether the enemy were 
on that island, or had actually landed on her own, 
Mabel could not say. Going to the loop that 
commanded a view of the spot where McNab lay, 
her blood curdled at perceiving all three of his 
soldiers lying apparently lifeless at his side. These 
men had rushed to a common center at the first 


164 leatherstocking tales 


alarm, and had been shot down almost at the same 
moment by the invisible foe, whom the corporal 
had affected to despise. 

Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir were to be 
seen. With a beating heart, Mabel examined 
every opening through the trees, and ascended 
even to the upper story, or garret, of the block- 
house, where she got a full view of the whole 
island, so far as its covers would allow, but with 
no better success. She had expected to see the 
body of her uncle lying on the grass, like those of 
the soldiers, but it was nowhere visible. Turning 
toward the spot where the boat lay, Mabel saw that 
it was still fastened to the shore; and then she 
supposed that, by some accident, Muir had been 
prevented from making his retreat in that quarter. 
In short, the island lay in the quiet of the grave, 
the bodies of the soldiers, rendering the scene as 
fearful as it was extraordinary. 

Jennie, fearing for the safety of her husband, 
peered out of the blockhouse door. Again the 
rifles cracked, and, as the war-whoop of the Iro- 
quois rang out, Jennie fell dead across the body of 
her murdered husband. The savages had sur- 
rounded the blockhouse. 

Mabel was alone in the blockhouse. But she 
bravely secured the door and waited for what was 
to come. 

Long and painfully melancholy hours passed, 
during which Mabel heard the yells of the savages; 
for the liquor which they had found in the stores 
had carried them beyond the bounds of wisdom. 


THE PATHFINDER 


t 6 5 


Toward the middle of the day she fancied she saw 
a white man on the island, though his dress and 
wild appearance at first made her take him for a 
newly arrived savage. She felt as if there was now 
one of a species more like her own present, and 
one to whom she might appeal for succor in the 
last time of need. Mabel little knew, alas! how 
small was the influence exercised by the whites 
over their savage allies when the latter had begun to 
taste of blood; or how slight, indeed, was the 
disposition to divert them from their cruelties. 

The day seemed a month by Mabel’s computa- 
tion, and the only part of it that did not drag were 
the minutes spent in prayer. She had recourse to 
this relief from time to time; and at each effort 
she found her spirit firmer, her mind calmer, and 
her tendency to resignation more confirmed. 

While the light lasted, the situation of our 
heroine was sufficiently alarming, but as the shades 
of evening gradually gathered over the island it 
became fearfully appalling. By this time the 
savages had wrought themselves up to the point 
of fury, for they had possessed themselves of all 
the liquor of the English, and their outcries and 
gesticulations were those of men truly possessed 
of evil spirits. All the efforts of their French 
leader to restrain them were entirely fruitless, and 
he had wisely withdrawn to an adjacent island, 
where he had a sort of camp-fire, that he might 
keep at a safe distance from friends so apt to run 
into excesses. Before quitting the spot, however, 
this officer, at great risk to his own life, succeeded 


1 66 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


in extinguishing the fire and in securing the ordi- 
nary means to relight it. This precaution he took 
lest the Indians should burn the blockhouse, the 
preservation of which was necessary to the success 
of his future plans. 

Morning had almost come, when a light footstep 
was audible below, and one of those gentle pushes 
at the door was heard which just moved the mas- 
sive beams on the hinges. 

“Who wishes to enter ? Is it you, dear, dear 
uncle ?” whispered Mabel. 

“Saltwater no here” was the answer. “Open 
quick — want to come in.” 

It was June, the faithful Tuscarora woman. 

The step of Mabel was never lighter, or her 
movements more quick and natural, than while she 
was descending the ladder and turning the bars, 
for all her motions were earnest and active. This 
time she thought only of her escape, and she opened 
the door with a rapidity that did not admit of 
caution. Her first impulse was to rush into the 
open air, in the blind hope of quitting the block- 
house, but June repulsed the attempt and, enter- 
ing, she coolly barred the door again, before she 
would notice Mabel’s eager efforts to embrace 
her. 

“Bless you — bless you, June,” cried our heroine 
most fervently — “you are sent by Providence to 
be my guardian angel!” 

“No hug so tight — ” answered the Tuscarora 
woman. “Paleface woman all cry or all laugh. 
Let June fasten door.” 


THE PATHFINDER 


167 


Mabel became more rational, and in a few 
minutes the two were in the upper room, seated, 
hand in hand. 

“Now, tell me, June,” Mabel commenced, as 
soon as she had given and received one warm 
embrace, “have you seen or heard aught of my 
poor uncle ?” 

“Don’t know. No one see him; no one hear 
him; no one know anyt’ing. Saltwater run into 
river, I t’ink, for I no find him; quartermaster 
gone too. I look, and look^and look; but no see 
’em, one, t’other, nowhere.” 

“Blessed be God! They must have escaped, 
though the means are not known to us. I thought 
I saw a Frenchman on the island, June ?” 

“Yes — French captain, but he go away, too. 
Plenty of Injin on island.” 

“Oh! June, June, are there no means to prevent 
my beloved father from falling into the hands of his 
enemies ?” 

“Don’t know; t’ink dat warriors wait in ambush, 
and Yengeese must lose scalp.” 

The night was far more quiet than that which 
had preceded it, and Mabel slept with an increasing 
confidence, for she now felt satisfied that her own 
fate would not be decided until the return of her 
father. The following day he was expected, 
however, and when our heroine awoke, she ran 
eagerly to the loops in order to ascertain the state 
of the weather and the skies, as well as the condi- 
tion of the island. The weather had changed. 
The wind blew fresh from the southward, and 


168 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


though the air was bland, it was filled with the 
elements of storm. 

“This grows more and more difficult to bear, 
June,” Mabel said, when she left the window. 

“Hush! Here they come! June thought hear a 
cry, like a warrior’s shout when he take a scalp.” 

“What mean you ? There is no more butchery! 
There can be no more.” 

“Saltwater!” exclaimed June, laughing, as she 
stood peeping through a loophole. 

“My dear uncle! Thank God, he then lives. 
Oh! June, June, you will not let them harm him .” 

“June poor squaw. What warrior t’ink of 
what she say ? Arrowhead bring him here.” 

By this time Mabel was at a loop, and, sure 
enough, there were Cap and the quartermaster 
in the hands of the Indians, eight or ten of whom 
were conducting them to the foot of the block; 
for by this capture the enemy now well knew that 
there could be no man in the building. Mabel 
scarcely breathed until the whole party stood 
ranged directly before the door, when she was 
rejoiced to see that the French officer was among 
them. A low conversation followed, in which 
both the white leader and Arrowhead spoke earn- 
estly to their captives, when the quartermaster 
called out to her, in a voice loud enough to be 
heard: 

“Mabel! Pretty Mabel!” he said. “Look out 
of one of the loopholes and pity our condition. 
We are threatened with instant death, unless you 
open the door to the conquerors, Relent, then, 


THE PATHFINDER 169 

or we’ll no be wearing our scalps half an hour from 
this blessed moment.” 

Mabel thought there were mockery and levity 
in this appeal, and its manner rather fortified than 
weakened her resolution to hold the place as long 
as possible. 

“Speak to me, uncle,” she said, with her mouth 
at a loop, “and tell me what I ought to do.” 

“Thank God! Thank God!” ejaculated Cap. 
“The sound of your sweet voice, Mabel, lightens 
my heart of a heavy load, for I feared you had 
shared the fate of poor Jennie. You ask me what 
you ought to do, child, and I do not know how 
to advise you, though you are my own sister’s 
daughter! 

“But, uncle, is your life in danger — do you think 
I ought to open the door ?” 

“I would counsel no one who is out of the hands 
of these F renchers and redskins to unbar or unfasten 
anything, in order to fall into them. As to the 
quartermaster and myself, we are both elderly men, 
and not of much account to mankind in general, 
and it can make no great odds to him whether he 
balances the purser’s books this year or the next; 
and as for myself, why, if I were on the seaboard 
I should know what to do — but up here in this 
watery wilderness, I can only say that if I were 
behind that bit of a bulwark, it would take a good 
deal of Indian logic to rouse me out of it.” 

But the quartermaster advised surrender. He 
said : “To be frank with you, finding myself and 
your uncle in a very peculiar situation, I have 


170 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


assumed the power that belongs to His Majesty’s 
commission, and entered into a verbal agreement, 
by which I have engaged to give up the blockhouse 
and the whole island. It is the fortune of war, and 
must be submitted to; so open the door, pretty 
Mabel, forthwith, and confide yourself to the care 
of those who know how to treat beauty and virtue 
in distress. 

“No leave blockhouse,” muttered June, who 
stood at Mabel’s side, attentive to all that passed. 
“Blockhouse good; got no scalp.” 

Our heroine might have yielded, but for this 
appeal. Now, however, she replied bravely — 

“I shall remain as I am, Mr. Muir, until I get 
some tidings of my father. He will return in the 
course of the next ten days.” 

“Ah! Mabel, this plan of yours will no deceive 
the enemy, who are familiar with all our doings and 
plans, and well know that the sun will not set before 
the worthy sergeant and his companions will be in 
their power. Aweel! Submission to Providence is 
truly a Christian virtue!” 

“Mr. Muir, you appear to be deceived in the 
strength of this work, and to fancy it weaker than 
it is. Do you desire to see what I can do in the 
way of defense, if so disposed ?” 

“I don’t mind if I do,” answered the quarter- 
master. 

“What do you think of that, then ? Look at the 
loop of the upper story.” 

As soon as Mabel had spoken all eyes were turned 
upward, and beheld the muzzle of a rifle cautiously 


THE PATHFINDER 


I 7 I 


thrust through a hole. The result did not dis- 
appoint expectation. No sooner did the Indians 
catch a sight of the fatal weapon, than they leaped 
aside, and in less than a minute every man among 
them had sought a cover. The French officer 
kept his eye on the barrel of the piece, in order to 
ascertain that it was not pointed in his particular 
direction, and he coolly took a pinch of snuff. As 
neither Muir nor Cap had anything to fear from 
the quarter in which the others were threatened, 
they kept their ground. 

“Be wise, my pretty Mabel, be wise,” exclaimed 
the former, “and no be provoking useless conten- 
tion.” 

“What do ye think of the Pathfinder, Master 
Muir, for a garrison to so strong a post!” cried 
Mabel, resorting to a trick that the circumstances 
rendered very excusable. “What will your French 
and Indian companions think of the aim of the 
Pathfinder’s rifle?” 

“Bear gently on the unfortunate, pretty Mabel. 
If Pathfinder be, indeed, in the blockhouse, let him 
speak, and we will talk directly with him. He knows 
us "as friends, and we fear no evil at his hands.” 

The reliance on Pathfinder’s friendship did not 
extend beyond the quartermaster and Cap, how- 
ever, for even the French officer, who had hitherto 
stood his ground so well, shrunk at the sound of the 
terrible name. So unwilling, indeed, did this 
individual, a man of iron nerves, and one long 
accustomed to the dangers of the peculiar warfare 
in which he was engaged, appear to be to remain 


I 7 2 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


exposed to the assaults of Killdeer, Pathfinder’s 
famous rifle, that he did not disdain to seek a cover, 
insisting that his two prisoners should follow him. 

The enemy now seemed disposed to abandon 
all attempts on the blockhouse for the present, 
and June, who had ascended to a trap in the roof, 
whence the best view was to be obtained, reported 
that the whole party had assembled to eat on a 
distant and sheltered part of the island, where 
Muir and Cap were quietly sharing in the good 
things that were going, as if they had no concern 
on their minds. This information greatly relieved 
Mabel, and she began to turn her thoughts again 
to the means of affecting her own escape, or at least 
of letting her father know of the danger that awaited 
him. The sergeant was expected to return that 
afternoon, and she knew that a moment gained or 
lost might decide his fate. 

Three or four hours flew by. The island was 
again buried in a profound quiet, the day was 
wearing away, and yet Mabel had decided on noth- 
ing. June was in the basement preparing their 
simple meal, and Mabel herself had climbed to the 
roof, which was provided with a trap that allowed 
her to go out on the top of the building, when she 
commanded the best view of surrounding objects 
that the island possessed. 

Her eye had turned carefully round the whole 
horizon, and she was just on the point of drawing 
in her person, when an object that struck her as 
new caught her attention. In one of the most 
covered channels, concealed in a great measure by 


THE PATHFINDER 


173 


the bushes of the shore, lay, what a second look 
assured her, was a bark canoe. It contained a 
human being beyond question. Confident that, 
if an enemy, her signal could do no harm, and, if a 
friend, that it might do good, the eager girl waved 
a little flag toward the stranger, which she had 
prepared for her father, taking care that it should 
not be seen from the island. 

Mabel had repeated her signal eight or ten times 
in vain, and she began to despair of its being 
noticed, when a sign was given in return, by the 
wave of a paddle, and the man so far discovered 
himself as to let her see it was Chingachgook. 
Here, then, at least, was a friend, one, too, who 
was able, and she doubted not would be willing, 
to aid her! From that instant her courage and her 
spirits revived. The Mohican had seen her — 
must have recognized her, as he knew that she was 
of the party; and, no doubt, as soon as it was 
sufficiently dark, he would take the steps necessary 
to release her. That he was aware of the presence 
of the enemy was apparent by the great caution he 
observed, and she had every reliance in his skill as 
well as in his courage. 

The principal difficulty now existed with June, 
for Mabel had seen too much of her fidelity to her 
own people, relieved as it was by sympathy for 
herself, to believe she would consent to a hostile 
Indian entering the blockhouse, or, indeed, to her 
leaving, it with a view to defeat Arrowhead’s plans. 
She knew June’s decision and coolness, notwith- 
standing all her gentleness and womanly feeling, 


1 74 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


and at last she came to the conclusion that there 
was no other way of attaining her end than by 
deceiving her tried companion and protector. 
It was revolting to one as sincere and natural, as 
pure of heart, and as much disposed to truthfulness 
as Mabel Dunham, to practise deception on a 
friend like June; but her own father’s life was at 
stake, her companion would receive no positive 
injury, and she had feelings and interests directly 
touching herself that would have removed greater 
objections. 

As soon as it was dark, Mabel’s heart began to 
beat with violence, and she adopted and changed 
her plan of procedure at least a dozen times in the 
course of a single hour. June was always the 
source of her greatest embarrassment, for she did 
not well see, firstly, how she was to ascertain when 
Chingachgook was at the door, where she doubted 
not he would soon appear; and, secondly, how 
she was to admit him without giving the alarm to 
her watchful companion. After running over 
various projects in her mind, therefore, Mabel 
came to her companion and said, with as much 
calmness as she could assume — 

“Are you not afraid, June, now your people 
believe Pathfinder is in the blockhouse, that they 
will come and try to set it on fire ?” 

“No t’ink such t’ink. No burn blockhouse. 
Blockhouse good; got no scalp.” 

“June, we can not know. They hid because 
they believed what I told them of Pathfinder’s 
being with us.” 


THE PATHFINDER 


*75 


i 

“Believe fear. Fear come quick, go quick. 
Fear make run away; wit make come back. 
Fear make warrior fool, as well as young girl.” 

“I feel uneasy, June, and wish you yourself 
would go up again to the roof and look out upon 
the island to make certain that nothing is plotting 
against us; you know the signs of what your people 
intend to do better than I.” 

“June go, Lily wish; but very well know that 
Indian sleep; wait for fader. Warrior eat, drink, 
sleep, all time, when don’t fight, and go on war- 
trail. Den never sleep, eat, drink — never feel. 
Warrior sleep, now.” 

“God send it may be so; but go up, dear June, 
and look well about you. Danger may come when 
we least expect it.” 

June arose and prepared to ascend to the roof. 
Just as she reached the upper floor a lucky thought 
suggested itself to our heroine, and, by expressing 
it in a hurried but natural manner, she gained a 
great advantage in carrying out her projected 
scheme. 

“I will go down,” she said, “and listen by the 
door, June, while you are on the roof, and we will 
thus be on our guard, at the same time, above and 
below.” 

Though June thought this showed unnecessary 
caution, but as it was made apparently with frank- 
ness, it was received without distrust. By these 
means our heroine was enabled to descend to the 
door as her friend ascended to the roof. 

June discovered nothing from her elevated 


1 76 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


stand; the darkness, indeed, almost forbade the 
hope of such a result, but it would not be easy to 
describe the sensation with which Mabel thought 
she perceived a slight and guarded push against 
the door. Fearful that all might not be as she 
wished, and anxious to let Chingachgook know 
that she was near she began, though in tremulous 
and low notes, to sing. So profound was the still- 
ness of the moment that the sound of the unsteady 
warbling ascended to the roof, and in a minute 
June began to descend. A slight tap at the door 
was heard immediately after. Mabel was bewil- 
dered, for there was no time to lose. Hope 
proved stronger than fear, and with unsteady 
hands she commenced unbarring the door. The 
moccasin of June was heard on the floor above 
her when only a single bar was turned. The 
second was released as her form reached half-way 
down the lower ladder. 

“What you do ?” exclaimed June, angrily. 
“Run away — mad — leave blockhouse ? Block- 
house good. The hands of both Mabel and June 
were on the last bar, one trying to open the other 
to keep it shut, and it would not have been cleared 
from the fastenings but for a vigorous shove from 
without which jammed the wood. A short 
struggle ensued, though both were disinclined to 
violence. June would probably have prevailed 
had not another and more vigorous push from with- 
out forced the door past the trifling hindrance that 
held it, when the door opened. The form of a man 
was seen to enter, and both the young women 


THE PATHFINDER 


177 


rushed up the ladder as if equally afraid of the con- 
sequences. The stranger secured the door, and, 
first examining the lower room with great care, he 
cautiously ascended the ladder. June, as soon as 
it became dark, had closed the loops of the princi- 
pal floor and lighted a candle. By means of this 
dim taper, then, the two women stood in expecta- 
tion, waiting to see their visitor, whose wary 
ascent of the ladder was distinctly heard. It would 
not be easy to say which was the more astonished 
on finding, when the stranger had got through the 
trap, that the Pathfinder stood before them. 

“God be praised !” Mabel exclaimed, for the 
idea that the blockhouse would be secure with 
such a garrison at once crossed her mind. “Oh! 
Pathfinder, what has become of my father ?” 

“The sergeant is safe as yet, and victorious, 
though it is not in the gift of man to say what will 
be the ind of it. Is not that the wife of Arrowhead, 
skulking in the corner there ?” 

- “Speak not of her unkindly, Pathfinder; I owe 
her my life — my present safety. Tell me, what 
has happened to my father’s party, why you are 
here, and I will relate all the horrible events that 
have passed upon this island.” 

“Few words will do the last, Mabel; for one used 
to Indian deviltries needs but little explanation on 
such a subject. Everything turned out as we had 
hoped with the expedition, for the Sarpent was on 
the lookout, and he met us with all the information 
heart could desire. We surprised three boats, 
druv the Frenchers out of them, got possession and 


12 


1 78 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


sunk them, according to orders, in the deepest part 
of the channel; and the savages of Upper Canada 
will fare badly for Indian goods this winter. We 
did not lose a man, or have even a skin barked ; nor 
do I think the inimy suffered to speak of. As soon 
as the sergeant found himself successful, he sent 
me and the Sarpent off in canoes to tell you how 
matters had turned out, and he is following with 
the two boats; which, being so much heavier, can 
not arrive before morning. I parted from Chin- 
gachgook this forenoon, it being agreed that he 
should come up one set of channels and I another, 
to see that the path was clear. Eve not seen the 
chief since.” 

Mabel now explained the manner in which she 
had discovered the Mohican, and her expectation 
that he would yet come to the blockhouse. 

“Not he — not he ! A regular scout will never get 
behind walls or logs so long as he can keep the open 
air and find useful employment. I should not 
have come myself, Mabel, but I promised the 
sergeant to comfort you, and look a’ter your 
safety. Ah’s me! I watched the island with a 
heavy heart this forenoon, and there was a bitter 
hour when I fancied you might be among the slain.’ 

“By what lucky accident were you prevented 
from paddling up boldy to the island and from 
falling into the hands of the enemy?” 

“By such an accident, Mabel, as Providence 
employs to tell the hound where to find the deer, 
and the deer how to throw off the hound. We 
never come in upon a post blindly; and I have lain 


THE PATHFINDER 


179 


outside a garrison a whole night, because they had 
changed their sentries and their mode of standing 
guard. Neither the Sarpent nor myself would be 
likely to be taken in by-these contrivances.” 

“Can we not get into your canoe and go and meet 
my father ?” Mabel asked. 

“That is not the course I advise. I don’t know 
by which channel the sergeant will come, and there 
are twenty; rely on it, the Sarpent will be winding 
his way through them all. No, no; my advice is to 
stay here. The logs of this blockhouse are still 
green, and it will not be easy to set them on fire; 
and I can make good the place, bating a burning, 
ag’in a tribe. The sergeant is now camped on 
some island, and will not come in until morning. 
If we hold the block, we can give him timely 
warning — by firing rifles, for instance; and should 
he determine to attack the savages, as a man of his 
temper will be very likely to do, the possession of 
this building will be of great account in the affair. 
No, no; my judgment says remain, if the object 
be to sarve the sergeant; though escape for our 
two selves will be no very difficult matter.” 

“Stay,” murmured Mabel, “stay, for God sake, 
Pathfinder. Anything — everything, to save my 
father!” 

“Yes, that is natur’. I’m glad to hear you say 
this, Mabel, for I own a wish to see the sergeant 
fairly supported. Yes, yes, Mabel, we must not 
only save the sergeant’s life, but we must save his 
honor.” 

“My father could not have suspected that the 


180 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


position of the island was known to the enemy,” 
resumed Mabel. 

“That is true; nor do I well see how the French- 
ers found it out. The spot is well chosen, and 
it is not an easy matter, even for one who has 
traveled the road to and from it, to find it again. 
There has been treachery, I fear; yes, yes, there 
must have been treachery/’ 

“Oh, Pathfinder, can this be?” 

“Nothing is easier, Mabel, for treachery comes 
as nat’ral to some men as eating. Now, when I 
find a man all fair words, I look close to his deeds; 
for when the heart is right, and raally intends to do 
good, it is generally satisfied to let the conduct 
speak, instead of the tongue.” 

“Jasper Western is not one of these,” said Mabel, 
impetuously. “No youth can be more sincere in 
his manner, or less apt to make the tongue act for 
the head.” 

“Jasper Western! — tongue and heart are both 
right with that lad, depend on it, Mabel; and the 
notion taken up by the major, and the quarter- 
master, and the sergeant, and your uncle, too, is as 
wrong as it would b'e to think that the sun shone by 
night and the stars shone by day. No, no; I’ll 
answer for Jasper’s honesty with my own scalp, or, 
at need, with my own rifle.” 

“Bless you — bless you, Pathfinder!” exclaimed 
Mabel, extending her own hand, and pressing the 
iron fingers of her companion. “You are all that 
is generous — all that is noble.” 

“I’ve been thinking about the woman, for it will 


THE PATHFINDER 


181 


not be safe to shut our eyes and leave hers open on 
this side of the blockhouse door. If we put her 
in the upper room and take away the ladder, she’ll 
be a prisoner at least.” 

“I can not treat one thus who has saved my life. 
It would be better to let her depart; I think she is 
too much my friend to do anything to harm me.” 

“You do not know the race, Mabel; you do not 
know the race. It’s true she’s not a full-blooded 
Mingo, but she consorts with the vagabonds and 
must have learned some of their tricks. What is 
that?” 

“It sounds like oars — some boat is passing 
through the channel.” 

Pathfinder closed the trap that led to the lower 
room, to prevent June from escaping, extinguished 
the candle, and went hastily to a loop, Mabel 
looking over his shoulder in breathless curiosity. 
These several movements consumed a minute or 
two, and by the time the eye of the scout had got a 
view of things without, two boats had swept past 
and shot up to the shore, at a spot some fifty yards 
beyond the block, where there was a regular land- 
ing. The obscurity prevented more from being 
seen; and Pathfinder whispered to Mabel that the 
newcomers were as likely to be foes as friends, 
for he did not think her father could possibly have 
arrived so soon. A number of men were now seen 
to quit the boats, and then followed three hearty 
English cheers, leaving no further doubts of the 
character of the party. Pathfinder sprang to the 
trap, raised it, glided down the ladder, and began 


182 leatherstocking tales 


to unbar the door with an earnestness that proved 
how critical he deemed the moment. Mabel had 
followed, but she rather hindered than aided his 
exertions, and but a single bar was turned when a 
heavy discharge of rifles was heard. They were 
still standing in breathless suspense as the war- 
whoop rang in all the surrounding thickets. The 
door now opened, and both Pathfinder and Mabel 
rushed into the open air. All human sounds had 
ceased. After listening half a minute, however, 
Pathfinder thought he heard a few stifled groans 
near the boats;, but the wind blew so fresh, and the 
rustling of the leaves mingled so much with the 
murmurs of the passing air, that he was far from 
certain. But Mabel was borne away by her feel- 
ings, and she rushed by him, taking the way toward 
the boats. 

“This will not do, Mabel,” said the scout in an 
earnest but low voice, seizing her by the arm, “this 
will never do. Sartain death would follow, and 
that without helping anyone. We must return to 
the block.” 

“Father! — my poor, dear, murdered father!” 
said the girl wildly, though habitual caution, even 
at that trying moment, induced her to speak low. 
“ Pathfinder, if you love me, let me go to my dear 
father!” 

“This will not do, Mabel. It is singular that no 
one speaks; no one returns the fire from the boats 
— and I have left Killdeer in the block. But of 
what use would a rifle be when no one is to be seen.” 

At that moment the quick eye of Pathfinder, 


THE PATHFINDER 


i8 3 


which, while he held Mabel firmly in his grasp, had 
never ceased to roam over the dim scene, caught an 
indistinct view of five or six dark, crouching forms 
endeavoring to steal past him, doubtless with the 
intention of intercepting their retreat to the block- 
house. Catching up Mabel, and putting her 
under an arm as if she were an infant, the sinewy 
frame of the woodsman was exerted to the utmost, 
and he succeeded in entering the building. The 
tramp of his pursuers seemed immediately at his 
heels. Dropping his burden, he turned, closed the 
door, and fastened one bar, as a rush against the 
solid mass threatened to force it from its hinges. 
To secure the other bar was the work of an instant. 

Mabel now ascended to the first floor, while 
Pathfinder remained as a sentinel below. Our 
heroine was in that state in which the body exerts 
itself apparently without the control of the mind. 
She re-lighted the candle, as her companion had de- 
sired, and returned with it below, where he was 
waiting her reappearance, No sooner was Path- 
finder in possession of the light than he examined 
the place carefully, to make certain no one was con- 
cealed in the fortress, ascending to each floor in 
succession after assuring himself that he left no 
enemy in his rear. The result was the conviction 
that the blockhouse now contained no one but Ma- 
bel and himself, June having escaped. When per- 
fectly convinced on this important point, Path- 
finder rejoined our heroine in the principal apart- 
ment, setting down the light and examining the 
priming of Killdeer before he seated himself. 


1 84 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“Our worst fears are realized,” said Mabel, to 
whom the hurry and excitement of the last five 
minutes appeared to contain the emotions of a life. 
“My beloved father and all his party are slain or 
captured !” 

“We don’t know that; morning will tell us all. 
I do not think the affair as settled as that, or we 
should hear the vagabond Mingos yelling out their 
triumph around the blockhouse. Of one thing we 
may be sartain: if the inimy has really got the 
better he will not be long in calling upon us to sur- 
render. 

“Surely, I hear a groan! Surely some one is 
below, and in pain!” 

Pathfinder was compelled to own that the quick 
senses of Mabel had not deceived her. He cau- 
tioned her to hide her feelings, and reminded her 
that the savages were in the practice of resorting to 
every trick to attain their ends, and that nothing 
was more likely than that the groans were feigned 
with a view to lure them from the blockhouse, 
or at least to induce them to open the door. 

“No — no — no,” said Mabel, hurriedly, “there 
is no deceit in those sounds, and they come from 
anguish of body, if not of spirit. They are fear- 
fully natural.” 

“Well, we shall soon know whether a friend is 
there or not. Hide the light again, Mabel, and I 
will speak to the person from a loop.” 

“Who is below?” Pathfinder demanded. “Is 
anyone in suffering ? If a friend, speak boldly, 
and depend on our aid.” 


THE PATHFINDER 


185 


“ Pathfinder !” answered a voice that both Mabel 
and the person addressed at once knew to be the 
sergeant’s, “Pathfinder, in the name of God, tell 
me what has become of my daughter!” 

“Father I am here — unhurt — safe— and, oh! 
that I could think the same of you!” 

The words of thanksgiving that followed could 
be distinctly heard by the two, but with them was 
clearly mingled a groan of pain. 

“My worst fears are realized!” said Mabel, with 
a sort of desperate calmness. “Pathfinder, my 
father must be brought within the block, though 
we hazard everything to do it.” 

“This is natur’, and it is the law of God. But, 
Mabel, be calm, and indeavour to be cool. All 
that can be effected for the sergeant by human in- 
vention shall be done. I only ask you to be cool.” 

“I am — I am — Pathfinder. Never in my life 
was I more calm, more collected, than at this mo- 
ment. But remember how perilous may be every 
instant; for heaven’s sake, what we do, let us do 
without delay.” 

Pathfinder was struck with the firmness of Ma- 
bel’s tones, and perhaps he was a little deceived by 
the forced calmness and self-possession she was 
showing. At all events, he did not deem any fur- 
ther explanation necessary, but descended forth- 
with and began to unbar the door. This delicate 
process was conducted with the usual precaution, 
but as he warily permitted the mass of timber to 
swing back on the hinges, he felt an impression 
against it that nearly induced him to close it again. 


186 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


But, catching a glimpse of the cause through a 
crack, the door was permitted to swing back, when 
the body of Sergeant Dunham, which was propped 
against it, fell partly within the block. To draw in 
the legs and secure the fastenings occupied the 
Pathfinder but a moment. Then there existed no 
obstacle to their giving their undivided care to the 
wounded man. 

Mabel, in this trying scene, conducted herself 
with the sort of unnatural energy that her sex, when 
aroused, is apt to show. She got the light, admin- 
istered water to the parched lips of her father, and 
assisted Pathfinder in forming a bed of straw for 
his body and a pillow of clothes for his head. All 
the time Mabel had merely guessed the condition 
of her parent. Pathfinder, however, showed 
greater attention to the danger of the sergeant. 
He found that a rifle ball had passed through the 
body of the wounded man, and he was sufficiently 
familiar with injuries of this nature to be certain 
that the chances of his surviving the hurt were very 
slight, if any. 

At once Mabel and Pathfinder made the sergeant 
as comfortable as possible, but they could not calm 
his mind which was troubled at the thought that 
all these disasters to his post had been brought 
about through treachery — whose, he could not say, 
for his suspicion of Jasper had long since disap- 
peared. 

As they looked to their ’defenses another knock 
for admission came to the blockhouse door. This 
time it was Cap, who had escaped his captors, and 


THE PATHFINDER 187 

made his way to the blockhouse in the hope of sav- 
ing Mabel. 

Still another summons came on the blockhouse 
door. It was Lieutenant Muir, sent by the French- 
man to advise surrender. But nothing was farther 
from the thoughts of Pathfinder and Cap. They 
absolutely refused, and Pathfinder assured the lieu- 
tenant that those in the blockhouse would defend it 
to the last. 

While speaking with the lieutenant Pathfinder 
kept his body covered, lest a treacherous shot 
should be aimed at the loop; and he now directed 
Cap to ascend to the roof in order to be in readi- 
ness to meet the first assault. Although the latter 
was as quick as possible, he found no less than ten 
blazing arrows sticking to the bark, while the air 
was filled with the yells and whoops of the enemy. 
A rapid discharge of rifles followed, and the bullets 
came pattering against the logs in a way to show 
that the struggle had indeed seriously commenced. 

These were sounds, however, that appalled 
neither Pathfinder nor Cap, while Mabel was too 
much absorbed in her sorrow to feel alarm. She 
had good sense enough, too, to understand the 
nature of the defenses, and fully to appreciate their 
importance. 

Mabel murmured her thanks, and tried to give 
all her attention to her father, whose efForts to rise 
were only prevented by his weakness. During the 
fearful minutes that succeeded, she was so much 
occupied with the care of the invalid that she scarce 
heeded the clamor that reigned around her. 


188 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Cap preserved his coolness admirably. As he 
was now on the deck of a house, if not on the deck 
of a ship, and knew that there was little danger of 
boarders, he moved about with a fearlessness and 
a rash exposure of his person that Pathfinder, had 
he been aware of the fact, would have been the 
first to condemn. Instead of keeping his body cov- 
ered, agreeably t6 the usages of Indian warfare, he 
was seen on every part of the roof, dashing the 
water right and left with the apparent steadiness 
and unconcern he would have manifested had he 
been a sail-trimmer exercising his art in a battle 
afloat. He appeared to possess a charmed life; 
for, though the bullets whistled around him on 
every side, and his clothes were several times torn, 
nothing cut his skin. After a time the Indians 
ceased to fire at him, and even to shoot their flam- 
ing arrows at the block — having taken up the 
notion simultaneously and by common consent 
that the “Saltwater was mad;” and it was a 
singular effect of their feeling never to lift a hand 
against those whom they imagined devoid of 
reason. 

The conduct of Pathfinder was very different. . 
Everything he did was regulated by the most exact 
calculation — the result of long experience and habit- 
ual thoughtfulness. His person was kept care- 
fully out of a line with the loops, and the spot that 
he selected for his lookout was one that was quite 
removed from danger. The Pathfinder bethought 
him of Mabel, and of what might possibly be 
the consequences to that poor girl should any 


THE PATHFINDER 


189 


harm befall himself. But the thought rather 
quickened his intellect than changed his customary 
prudence. 

“There is one riptyle the less,” Pathfinder mut- 
tered to himself, as he discharged his rifle from a 
loop; “Eve seen that vagabond afore, and know 
him to be a merciless devil. One more of the 
knaves, and that will sarve the turn for to-night. 
When daylight appears we may have hotter work.” 

All this time another rifle was getting ready, and 
as Pathfinder ceased a second savage fell. This, 
indeed, sufficed; for, indisposed to wait for a third 
visitation from the same hand, the whole band, 
which had been crouching in the bushes around 
the block, ignorant of who was and who was not 
exposed to view, leaped from their covers and fled 
to different places for safety. 

“Now, pour away, Master Cap,” said Path- 
finder; “Eve made my mark on the blackguards, 
and we shall have no more fires lighted to-night.” 

“Scaldings!” cried Cap, upsetting the barrel 
with a care that at once and completely put out the 
flames. 

This ended the singular conflict, and the remain- 
der of the night passed in peace. Pathfinder and 
Cap watched alternately, though neither can be 
said to have slept. 

As the light returned Pathfinder and Cap as- 
cended again to the roof, with a view once more to 
view the state of things on the island. The shape 
of the little island was generally oval, and its great- 
est length was from east to west. By keeping in 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


190 

the channels that washed it, in consequence of 
their several courses and of the direction of the 
wind, it would have been possible for a vessel to 
range past the island on either of its principal sides 
and always to keep the wind very nearly abeam. 
These were the facts first noticed by Cap, and ex- 
plained to his companion, for the hopes of both 
now rested on the chances of relief sent from the 
Fort. At this instant, while they stood gazing anx- 
iously about them, Cap cried out in his lusty, 
hearty manner: “Sail, ho!” 

Pathfinder turned quickly in the direction of his 
companion’s face, and there, sure enough, was just 
visible the object of the old sailor’s exclamation. 
The canvas of a vessel was seen through the 
bushes that fringed the shore of an island that lay 
to the southward and westward. 

Anxiety and suspense prevented Pathfinder from 
attempting to make any signal. It was not easy, 
truly, to see how it could be done, for the “Scud” 
came foaming through the channel on the weather 
side of the island at a rate that scarce admitted of 
the necessary time. Nor was any one visible on 
her deck to make signs to; even her helm seemed 
deserted, though her course was as steady as her 
progress was rapid. 

Cap stood in silent admiration of a spectacle so 
unusual. But, as the “Scud” drew nearer, his 
practised eye detected the helm in play by means of 
tiller-ropes, though the person who steered was con- 
cealed. As the cutter had weather-boards of some 
little height, the mystery was explained, no doubt 


THE PATHFINDER 


191 


remaining that her people lay behind the latter in 
order to be protected from the rifles of the enemy. 
As this fact showed that no force beyond that of the 
small crew could be on board, Pathfinder received 
his companion’s explanation with an ominous 
shake of the head. 

“This proves that the Sarpent has not reached 
the Fort,” he said, “and that we are not to expect 
succor from the garrison. I hope the major has 
not taken it into his head to displace the lad, for 
Jasper Western would be a host of himself in such 
a strait. We three, Master Cap, ought to make a 
manful warfare — you, as a seaman, to keep up the 
intercourse with the cutter; Jasper, as a laker, who 
knows all that is necessary to be done on the water; 
and I, with gifts that are as good as any among the 
Mingos, let me be what I may in other particulars, 
I say we ought to make a manful fight in Mabel’s 
behalf.” 

“That we ought — and that we will,” answered 
Cap heartily, for he began to have more confidence 
in the security of his scalp now that he saw the sun 
again; “I set down the arrival of the ‘Scud’ as one 
favorable circumstance, and the chances of Jasper’s 
honesty as another. This Jasper is a young man 
of prudence, you find, for he keeps a good offing, 
and seems determined to know how matters stand 
on the island before he ventures to bring up.” 

“I have it, I have it,” exclaimed Pathfinder with 
exultation; “there lies the canoe of the Sarpent on 
the cutter’s deck, and the chief has got on board, 
and no doubt has given a true account of our con- 


I 9 2 leatherstocking tales 

dition; unlike a Mingo, a Delaware’s sartain to get 
a story right or to hold his tongue.” 

So it proved, and as the “Scud” came up the 
channel and abreast of the blockhouse Jasper 
sprang upon his feet and gave three hearty cheers. 
Regardless of all risk, Cap leaped upon the rampart 
of logs and returned the greeting, cheer for cheer. 
On the other hand, Pathfinder kept in view the 
useful, utterly disregarding the mere showy part of 
warfare. The moment he beheld his friend Jas- 
per, he called out to him : * 

“ Stand by us, lad, and the day’s our own ! Give 
’m a grist in yonder bushes, and you’ll put ’m up 
like partridges.” 

Part of this reached Jasper’s ears, but most was 
borne off to leeward on the wings of the wind. By 
the time this was said the “Scud” had driven past, 
and the next moment she was hidden from view by 
the grove in which the blockhouse was partially 
concealed. 

Two anxious minutes followed, but at the end 
of that brief space the sails were again gleaming 
through the trees, Jasper having wore, jibed, and 
hauled up under the lee of the island on the other 
tack. When, however, the “Scud” had made the 
circuit of the island, and had again got her Weath- 
erly position in the channel by which she had first 
approached, her helm was put down, and she 
tacked. 

The “Scud” now kept so much away that for a 
moment the two observers on the blockhouse 
feared Jasper meant to come to, and the savages 


THE PATHFINDER 


x 93 


in their lairs gleamed out upon her with the sort 
of exultation that the crouching tiger may be sup- 
posed to feel as he sees his unconscious victim ap- 
proach his bed. But Jasper had no such intention. 
Familiar with the shore, and acquainted with the 
depth of water at every part of the island, he well 
knew that the “Scud” might be run against the 
bank with impunity, and he ventured fearlessly so 
near that as he passed through the little cove he 
swept the two boats of the soldiers from their fas- 
tenings and forced them out into the channel, tow- 
ing them with the cutter. As all the canoes were 
fastened to the two Dunham boats, by this bold 
and successful attempt the savages were at once 
deprived of the means of quitting the island, unless 
by swimming, and they appeared to be instantly 
aware of the very important fact. Rising in a 
body, they filled the air with yells, and poured in a 
harmless fire. While up in this unguarded man- 
ner two rifles were discharged by their adversaries. 
One came from the summit of the block, and an 
Iroquois fell dead in his tracks, shot through the 
brain. The other came from the “Scud.” The last 
was the piece of the Delaware, but, less true than 
that of his friend, it only maimed an enemy for life. 
The people of the “Scud” shouted, and the savages 
sank again to a man, as it might be, into the earth. 

“That was the Sarpent’s voice,” said Pathfinder, 
as soon as the second piece was discharged. “I 
know the crack of his rifle as well as I do that of 
Killdeer. ’Tis a good barrel, though not sartain 
death. Well, well; with Chingachgook and Jas- 


13 


194 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


per on the water, and you and I in the block, friend 
Cap, it will be hard if we don’t teach these Mingo 
scamps the plan of a fight.” 

All this time the “Scud” was in motion. As 
soon as she had reached the end of the island, 
Jasper sent his prizes adrift, and they went down 
before the wind until they stranded on a point 
more than a mile to leeward. He then wore, and 
came, stemming the current again, through the 
other passage. But the appearance of June, 
bearing a white flag, and accompanied by the 
French officer and Muir, stayed the hands of all, 
and was the forerunner of another parley. 

The negotiation that followed was held beneath 
the blockhouse, and so near it as at once to put 
those who were uncovered completely at the mercy 
of Pathfinder’s unerring aim. Jasper anchored 
directly abeam, and the howitzer, too, was kept 
trained upon the negotiators, so that the besieged 
and their friends, with the exception of the man 
who held the match, had no hesitation about ex- 
posing their persons. Chingachgook alone lay in 
ambush; more, however, from habit than distrust. 

“You’ve triumphed, Pathfinder,” called out the 
quartermaster, “and Captain Sanglier has come 
himself to offer terms. You’ll no be denying a 
brave enemy an honorable retreat, when he has 
fought ye fairly and done all the credit he could to 
king and country. I am authorized to offer on the 
part of the enemy a giving up of the island, a 
mutual exchange of prisoners, and a restoration of 
scalps. 


THE PATHFINDER 


l 95 


As the conversation was necessarily carried on 
in a high key, both on account of the wind and on 
account of the distance, all that was said was 
heard equally by those on the block and those in 
the cutter. 

“What do you say to that, Jasper?” called out 
Pathfinder. “You hear the tarms; shall we let 
the vagabonds go ?” 

“What has befallen Mabel Dunham ?” de- 
manded the young man, with a frown on his hand- 
some face that was visible even to those in the block. 
“If a hair of her head has been touched it will go 
hard with the whole Iroquois tribe.” 

“Nay, nay, she is safe below, nursing a dying 
parent. We owe no grudge on account of the 
sergeant’s hurt, which comes of lawful warfare; 
and as for Mabel — ” 

“She is here!” exclaimed the girl herself, who had 
mounted to the roof the moment she found the 
direction things were taking. “She is here; and 
in the name of our holy religion, and of that God 
whom we profess to worship in common, let there 
be no more bloodshed! Enough has been spilled 
already, and if these men will go away, Pathfinder, 
— if they will depart peaceably, Jasper, — oh! do 
not detain one of them. My poor father is nearing 
his end, and it were better that he should draw his 
last breath in peace with the world.” 

By this time both Pathfinder and Cap doubted 
the loyalty of Lieutenant Muir. They thought 
that the Frenchman, perhaps, had offered the 
quartermaster life and freedom in exchange for 


196 leatherstocking tales 

good terms from the blockhouse. But they talked 
the matter over, and, after a short discussion, all 
the savages on the island were collected in a body, 
without arms, at the distance of a hundred yards 
from the block, and under the gun of the “Scud,” 
while Pathfinder descended to the doorof the block- 
house and settled the terms on which the island 
was to be finally abandoned by the enemy. The 
Indians were compelled to give up all their arms, 
even to their knives and tomahawks, as a measure 
of precaution, their force being still quadruple that 
of their foes. The French officer, Monsieur San- 
glier, as he chose to call himself, remonstrated 
against this act as one likely to reflect more dis- 
credit on his command than any other part of the 
affair; but Pathfinder, who had witnessed one 
or two Indian massacres, and knew how valueless 
pledges became when put in opposition to interest 
where a savage was concerned, was obdurate. 
The second demand was of nearly the same 
importance. It compelled Captain Sanglier to 
give up all his prisoners, who had been kept, well 
guarded, in the very hole or cave in which Cap and 
Muir had taken refuge. When these men were 
brought out, four of them were found to be unhurt; 
they had fallen merely to save their lives, a com- 
mon trick in that species of warfare; and of the 
remainder, two were so slightly injured as not to be 
unfit for service. As they brought their muskets 
with them, this addition to his force immediately 
put Pathfinder at his ease, for having collected all 
the arms of the enemy in the blockhouse, he 


THE PATHFINDER 


*97 


directed these men to take possession of the build- 
ing, stationing a regular sentinel at the door. 

As soon as Jasper was made acquainted with the 
terms, and the agreements had been so far observed 
as to render it safe for him to be absent, he got the 
“Scud” under way, and, running down to the point 
where the boats had stranded, he took them in tow 
again, and making a few stretches brought them 
into the leeward passage. Here all the savages 
instantly embarked, when Jasper took the boats 
in tow a third time, and running off before the wind 
he soon set them adrift, quite a mile to leeward of 
the island. The Indians were furnished with but 
a single oar in each boat to steer with, the young 
sailor well knowing that by keeping before the 
wind they would land on the shores of Canada in 
the course of the morning. 

Captain Sanglier, Arrowhead, and June alone 
remained when this disposition had been made of 
the rest of the party; the former, Sanglier, having 
certain papers to draw up and sign with Lieutenant 
Muir, who, in his eyes, possessed the virtues which 
are attached to a commission, and the latter, 
Arrowhead, preferring, for reasons of his own, not 
to depart in company with his late friends, the Iro- 
quois. Canoes were retained for the departure of 
these three when the proper moment should arrive. 

In the meantime, or while the “Scud” was 
running down with the boats in tow, Pathfinder 
and Cap, aided by proper assistants, busied them- 
selves with preparing a breakfast, most of the party 
not having eaten for four-and-twenty hours. 


198 leatherstocking tales 


When this was accomplished and the party 
assembled at the blockhouse, Lieutenant Muir, by 
virtue of his commission, and because of the con- 
dition of Sergeant Dunham, assumed command of 
the post, and his first order to his soldiers was to 
arrest Jasper Western for treason. 

Pathfinder sprang to his feet. 

“What does that mean, indeed ?” he cried, 
stepping forward, and shoving the two soldiers 
away with a power of muscle that would not be 
denied. “Who has the heart to do this to Jasper 
Western, and who has the boldness to do it before 
my eyes ?” 

“It is by my orders, Pathfinder,” answered the 
quartermaster, “and I command it on my own 
authority. Ye’ll no tak’ on yourself to dispute the 
lawfulness of orders given by one who bears the 
king’s commission to the king’s soldiers?” 

“I’d dispute the king’s words if they came from 
the king’s own mouth, did they say that Jasper 
desarves this. Has not the lad just saved all our 
scalps ? — taken us from defeat and given us victory ? 
No, no, lieutenant; if this is the first use that you 
make of your authority, I for one will not respect it.” 

“This savors a little of disobedience,” answered 
Muir; “but we can bear much from Pathfinder. 
It is true this Jasper has seemed to serve us in this 
affair, but we ought not to overlook past trans- 
actions. Did not Major Duncan himself denounce 
him to Sergeant Dunham before we left the post ? 
Have we not seen sufficient with our own eyes to 
make sure of having been betrayed ? And is it not 


THE PATHFINDER 


199 

natural and almost necessary to believe that this 
young man has been the traitor ? ” 

“Jasper Western is my friend,” returned Path- 
finder. Jasper is a brave lad, and an honest lad, 
and a loyal lad; and no man shall lay hands on 
him short of Major Duncan’s own orders while 
I’m in the way to prevent it. You may have 
authority over your soldiers, but you have none 
over Jasper or me, Master Muir.” 

“Will ye no hearken to reason, Pathfinder ? 
Ye’ll no be forgetting our suspicions and judg- 
ments; and here is another circumstance to 
increase and aggravate them all. Ye can see this 
little bit of bunting; well, where should it be 
found but by Mabel Dunham, on the branch of a 
tree on this very island, just an hour or so before 
the attack of the enemy; and if ye’ll be at the 
trouble to look at the fly of the ‘Scud’s’ ensign, 
ye’ll just say that the cloth has been cut from it. 
Evidence was never stronger.” 

“Talk to me of no ensigns and signals when I 
know the heart,” continued the Pathfinder. 
“Jasper has the gift of honesty; and it is too rare 
a gift to be trifled with like a Mingo’s conscience. 
No, no; off hands, or we shall see which can make 
the stoutest battle — you and your men of the Fifty- 
fifth, or the Sarpent, here, and the Killdeer, with 
Jasper and his crew.” 

“Well, if I must speak plainly, Pathfinder, I 
e’en must. Captain Sanglier, here, and Arrow- 
head, this brave Tuscarora, have both informed 
me that this unfortunate boy is the traitor. After 


200 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


such testimony you can no longer oppose my right 
to correct him, as well as the necessity of the act.” 

“Captain Sanglier is a brave soldier, and will 
not gainsay the conduct of an honest sailor,” put 
in Jasper. “Is there any traitor here, Captain ?” 

“Ay,” added Muir, “let him speak out, then, 
since ye wish it, unhappy youth, that the truth may 
be known. I only hope that ye may escape the 
last punishment when a court will be sitting on 
your misdeeds. How is it, Captain; do ye or do 
ye not see a traitor among us ?” 

“Yes, sir. I do, sir,” replied the Frenchman. 

“Too much lie,” said Arrowhead, in a voice of 
thunder, striking the breast of Muir with the back 
of his own hand in a sort of ungovernable ges- 
ture. “Where my warriors ? Where the English 
scalp ? Too much lie.” 

Muir wanted not for personal courage, nor for a 
certain sense of personal honor. The violence 
which had been intended only for a gesture he 
mistook for a blow, for conscience was suddenly 
aroused within him; and he stepped back a pace, 
extending a hand toward a gun. His face was 
livid with rage, and his countenance expressed the 
fell intention of his heart. But Arrowhead was to 
quick for him. With a wild glance of the eye the 
Tuscarora looked about him; then, thrusting a 
hand beneath his own girdle, drew forth a con- 
cealed knife and in the twinkling of an eye buried 
it in the body of the quartermaster to the handle. 
As the latter fell at his feet, gazing into his face 
with the vacant stare of one surprised by death, 


THE PATHFINDER 


201 


Sanglier took a pinch of snuff, and said in a calm 
voice : 

“That ends the affair, but it is the death of a 
traitor/’ 

The act was too sudden to be prevented, and 
when Arrowhead, uttering a yell, bounded into the 
bushes, the white men were too confounded to 
follow. Chingachgook, however, was more col- 
lected, and the bushes had scarcely closed on the 
passing body of the Tuscarora than they were 
again opened by that of the Delaware in full 
pursuit. 

Jasper Western spoke French fluently, and the 
words and manner of Sanglier struck him. 

“Speak, sir,” he said, “am I the traitor ?” 

“See!” answered the cool Frenchman; “that* 
is our spy — our agent — our friend — but a fine 
traitor. See here!” 

As he spoke Sanglier bent over the dead body, 
and thrust a hand into a pocket of the quarter- 
master, out of which he drew a purse. Emptying 
the contents on the ground, several double-louis • 
rolled toward the soldiers, who were not slow in 
picking them up. Casting the purse from him 
in contempt, the soldier of fortune turned toward 
the soup he had been preparing with so much care, 
and finding it to his liking he began to break his 
fast, with an air of indifference that the most 
stoical Indian warrior might have envied. 

It was the truth; Lieutenant Muir had been in 
the pay of the French for months, and had delib- 
erately accompanied the party with the intention 


202 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


of surrendering all, and the island fort, into the 
hands of the enemy. 

But Jasper was freed of all suspicion. His 
innocence, his loyalty, and his courage had all 
been proved after a hard and cruel test, and Mabel 
and Pathfinder both rejoiced. 

And when, on that green island in the great 
river, the brave sergeant breathed his last, leaving 
Mabel as a charge to Pathfinder, the true and 
gentle scout, although loving Mabel dearly, saw 
that she cared the most for Jasper, and, acting in 
her father’s place, put his own wishes aside and 
bade Jasper take Mabel as his wife. 

Then he bade them good-by. 

“Good-by!” cried Jasper. “Why, you do not 
mean to leave us, dear friend ?” 

“’Tis best, Mabel and Jasper; best and wisest,” 
Pathfinder replied. “I could live and die in your 
company if I only followed feeling; but if I follow 
reason I shall quit you here. You will go back to 
the Fort and become man and wife as soon as you 
• arrive while I shall return to the wilderness and 
my Maker. Come, Mabel,” continued Path- 
finder, rising and drawing nearer to our heroine 
with grave decorum, “kiss me, Jasper will not 
grudge me one kiss; then we’ll part.” 

“Oh, Pathfinder!” exclaimed Mabel, falling 
into the arms of the guide and kissing his cheeks 
again and again with a freedom and warmth she 
had been far from showing while held to the bosom 
of Jasper; “God bless you, dearest Pathfinder! 
You will come to us hereafter. We shall see you 



Sergeant Dunham Wounded, 


































THE PATHFINDER 


203 

again. When old you will come to our dwelling 
and let me be a daughter to you ?” 

“Yes — that’s it,” returned the guide, almost gasp- 
ing for breath; “Til try to think of it in that way. 
You’re more befitting to be my daughter than to 
be my wife, you are. Farewell, Jasper. Now we’ll 
go to the canoe; it’s time you were on board.” 

The manner in which Pathfinder led the way to 
the shore was solemn and calm. As soon as he 
reached the canoe he again took Mabel by the 
hands, held her at the length of his own arms, and 
gazed wistfully into her face, until the unbidden 
tears rolled out and trickled down his rugged 
cheeks in streams. 

Before he retired he took Jasper by the arm, and 
led him a little aside, when he spoke as follows: 

“You’re kind of heart and gentle by natur’, 
Jasper; but we are both rough and wild in com- 
parison with that dear creatur’. Be careful of her, 
and never show the roughness of man’s natur’ to 
her soft disposition. You’ll get to understand her 
in time, and the Lord keep you happy and worthy 
to be so!” 

Pathfinder made a sign for his friend to depart, 
and he stood leaning on his rifle until the canoe had 
reached the side of the “Scud.” Mabel wept as if 
her heart would break, nor did her eyes once turn 
from the open spot in the glade where the form of 
the Pathfinder was to be seen, until the cutter had 
passed a point that completely shut out the island. 
When last in view, the sinewy frame of this extraor- 
dinary man was as motionless as if it were a 


204 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


statue set up in that solitary place to commemorate 
the scenes of which it had so lately been the witness. 

Jasper soon after married Mabel Dunham, but 
neither he nor his wife ever beheld the Pathfinder 
again. They remained for another year on the 
banks of Ontario, and then the pressing solicita- 
tions of Cap induced them to join him in New 
York, where Jasper eventually became a success- 
ful and respected merchant. Thrice Mabel re- 
ceived valuable presents of furs, at intervals of 
years, and her feelings told her whence they came, 
though no name accompanied the gift. Later in 
life still, when the mother of several sons, she had 
occasion to visit the interior, and found herself 
on the banks of the Mohawk, accompanied by her 
boys, the eldest of whom was capable of being her 
protector. On that occasion she observed a man 
in a singular guise watching her in the distance 
with an intentness that induced her to inquire into 
his pursuits and character. She was told he was 
the most renowned hunter of that portion of the 
State — a being of great purity of character and of 
as marked peculiarities, and that he was known 
in that region of country by the name of the 
Leatherstocking. Further than that Mrs. Western 
could not learn, though the distant glimpse and 
singular deportment of this unknown hunter gave 
her the assurance that it might indeed be her brave 
defender on the island in the St. Lawrence; her 
more than father, her true and loyal friend; 
loyal and true, also, to Jasper in his days of trial — 
the noble, generous, and valiant Pathfinder. 


THE PIONEERS 


A TALE OF THE NEW YORK FORESTS. 

O N a bright December day, years ago, when 
the beautiful lake district of Central New 
York was a border-land between civiliza- 
tion and the wilderness, Judge Temple and his 
daughter, Elizabeth, were journeying home from 
Elizabeth’s school in New York City. 

Judge Temple was a great landholder, who had 
obtained a large tract, or patent, of land near to 
Lake Otsego. His daughter had just finished a 
four-year’s course of schooling in New York, and 
was coming home in the care of her father. 

Their sleigh was driven by their black coach- 
man, Aggy, but as they neared their home at 
Templeton, on the shores of the lake, the judge 
heard the barking of dogs in the forest. 

He knew that meant game, and he was very fond 
of hunting. 

“Hold up, Aggy,” he said, “there is old Hector; 
I should know his bay among ten thousand! The 
Leatherstocking has put his hounds into the hills, 
this clear day, and they have started their game. 
There is a deer track a few rods ahead; and now, 
Bess, if you can muster courage enough to stand 
fire, I will give you a saddle of venison for your 
Christmas dinner.” 


(205) 


206 leatherstocking tales 


The black drew up, with a cheerful grin upon his 
chilled features, and began thrashing his arms 
together in order to warm them, while the speaker 
stood erect, and, throwing aside his outer covering, 
stepped from the sleigh upon a bank of snow, 
which bore his weight without yielding. 

In a few moments the Judge succeeded in bring- 
ing forth a double-barreled fowling-piece from 
among a multitude of trunks and bandboxes. 
After throwing aside the thick mittens which had 
encased his hands, he examined his priming, and 
was about to move forward, when the light, bound- 
ing noise of an animal plunging through the woods 
was heard, and a fine buck darted into the path a 
short distance ahead of him. As it came first into 
view the Judge raised the fowling-piece to his 
shoulder, and, with a practised eye and steady 
hand, drew a trigger. The deer dashed forward 
undaunted, and apparently unhurt. Without 
lowering his piece, the traveler turned its muzzle 
toward his victim and fired again. Neither dis- 
charge, however, seemed to have taken effect. 

The whole scene had passed with a rapidity that 
confused the girl, who was unconsciously rejoicing 
in the escape of the buck, as he darted like a meteor 
across the road, when a sharp, quick sound struck 
her ear, quite different from the full, round reports 
of her father’s gun, but still sufficiently distinct to 
be known as caused by firearms. At the same 
instant that she heard this unexpected report, the 
buck sprung from the snow to a great height in the 
air, and directly a second discharge, similar in 


THE PIONEERS 


207 


sound to the first, followed, when the animal came 
to the earth, falling headlong, and rolling over on 
the crust. A loud shout was given by the unseen 
marksmen, and a couple of men instantly appeared 
from behind the trunks of two of the pines, where 
they had evidently placed themselves in expecta- 
tion of the passage of the deer. 

“Ha! Leatherstocking, had I known you were 
in ambush I should not have fired,” cried the 
traveler, moving toward the spot where the deer 
lay, near to which he was followed by the delighted 
black with his sleigh; “but the sound of old Hector 
was too inspiring to be quiet, though I hardly think 
I struck him, either/’ 

“No, no, Judge,” returned the hunter, with an 
inward chuckle, and with that look of exultation 
that indicates a consciousness of superior skill; 
“you burned your powder only to warm your nose 
this cold evening. Did ye think to stop a full- 
grown buck with that pop-gun in your hand ? 
There’s plenty of pheasants among the swamps, 
and the snow-birds are flying round your own door, 
where you may shoot them at pleasure, any day; but 
if you’re for a buck or a little bear’s meat, Judge, 
you’ll have to take the long rifle, with a greased 
wadding, or you’ll waste more powder than you’ll 
fill stomachs, I’m thinking.” 

As the speaker concluded he drew his bare hand 
across the bottom of his nose, and again opened 
his enormous mouth, with a kind of inward laugh. 

“The gun scatters well, Leatherstocking, and it 
has killed a deer before now,” said the traveler, 


208 leatherstocking tales 


smiling good-humoredly. “One barrel was charged 
with buckshot, but the other was loaded for 
birds only. Here are two hurts, one through the 
neck and the other directly through the heart. 
It is by no means certain, Leatherstocking, but 
that I gave him one of the two.” 

“No, no, Judge,” said the hunter called Leather- 
stocking; “the creature came to his death by a 
younger hand than yours or mine,” and he nodded 
toward his companion. 

The Judge tried pleasantly to decide the question 
by lot, and next to buy from the young hunter, who 
accompanied Leatherstocking, the slaughtered 
deer. But the young man refused. 

“First let us determine the question of right to 
the satisfaction of us both,” he said firmly but 
respectfully, and with a pronunciation and lan- 
guage vastly superior to his appearance; “with 
how many shot did you load your gun ?” 

“With five, sir,” said the Judge, a little struck 
with the other’s manner; “are they not enough to 
slay a buck like this ?” 

“One would do it; but,” moving to the tree 
from behind which he had appeared, “you know, 
sir, you fired in this direction — here are four of the 
bullets in the tree.” 

The Judge examined the fresh marks in the bark 
of the pine, and, shaking his head, said with a 
laugh — 

“You are making out the case against yourself, 
my young advocate; where is the fifth ?” 

“Here,” said the youth, throwing aside the rough 


THE PIONEERS 


209 


overcoat that he wore, and exhibiting a hole in his 
undergarment through which large drops of blood 
were oozing. 

“Great Heavens !” exclaimed the Judge with 
horror; “have I been trifling here about an empty 
distinction, and a fellow-creature suffering from 
my hands without a murmur ? But hasten — quick 
— get into my sleigh — it is but a mile to the village, 
where a doctor’s aid can be obtained — all shall be 
done at my expense, and you shall live with me 
until your wound is healed, aye, and forever after- 
ward.” 

“I thank you for your good intention, but I must 
decline your offer. I have a friend who would be 
uneasy were he to hear that I am hurt and away 
from him. The injury is but slight, and the bullet 
has missed the bones, but I believe, sir, you will 
now admit my title to the venison.” 

“Admit it!” repeated the agitated Judge: “I 
here give you a right to shoot deer, or bears, or 
anything you please in my woods forever. Leath- 
erstocking is the only other man that I have 
granted the same privilege to, and the time is 
coming when it will be of value. But I buy your 
deer — here, this bill will pay you, both for your shot 
and my own.” 

The old hunter gathered his tall person up into 
an air of pride during this dialogue, but he waited 
until the other had done speaking. 

“There’s them living who say that Nathaniel 
Bumpo’s right to shoot on these hills is of older 
date than Marmaduke Temple’s right to forbid 


14 


2io LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


him,” he said. “But if there’s a law about it at 
all, — though who ever heard of a law that a man 
shouldn’t kill deer where he pleased! But if there 
is a law at all, it should be to keep people from the 
use of smooth-bores. A body never knows where 
his lead will fly when he pulls the trigger of one of 
them uncertain firearms.” 

Without attending to the words of Leather- 
stocking, the youth bowed his head silently to the 
offer of the bank-note, and replied: 

“Excuse me; I have need of the venison.” 

“But this will buy you many deer,” said the 
judge; “take it, I entreat you,” and lowering his 
voice to a whisper he added, “it is for a hundred 
dollars.” 

For an instant only the youth seemed to hesitate, 
and then, blushing even through the high color 
that the cold had given to his cheeks, as if with 
inward shame at his own weakness, he again 
declined the offer. 

During this scene the girl in the sleigh arose; 
regardless of the cold air she threw back the hood 
which concealed her features, and now spoke with 
great earnestness. 

“Surely, surely — young man — sir — you would 
not pain my father so much as to have him think 
that he leaves a fellow-creature in this wilderness 
whom his own hand has injured. I entreat you 
will go with us and receive medical aid.” 

The young man hesitated. Leatherstocking 
advised him to go, as that was the quickest way to 
get aid, and the wounded hunter, thus persuaded, 


THE PIONEERS 


21 1 


at last entered the sleigh. Aggy threw the dead 
buck across the baggage and took up the reins. 

The Judge invited the old hunter to accompany 
them, but Leatherstocking declined. 

“No, no,” said the old man, shaking his head; 
“I have work to do at home this Christmas eve. 
Drive on with the boy, and let your doctor look at 
the shoulder; though, if he will only cut out the 
shot, I have yarbs that will heal the wound quicker 
than all his foreign ’intments.” 

The Judge and his sleigh drove over the crisp 
snow until the roofs of the little village of Temple- 
ton were passed and he reached his own mansion. 

The wound of the young hunter, whose name, 
he said, was Oliver Edwards, was duly attended to 
in Judge Temple’s home, where the country 
doctor operated upon him, but he was compelled 
to remain there for some little time, and so inter- 
ested the judge, that, in spite of the young man’s 
unwillingness to accept favors, he tried to induce 
him to live in his home instead of being the com- 
panion of a hunter and an Indian in a forest hut. 
And one day, when Leatherstocking and the young 
hunter were at the mansion, the plan was proposed. 

“I have greatly injured you, Mr. Edwards,” 
said the Judge, “but fortunately, it is in some 
measure in my power to repay you. My kinsman, 
Richard Jones, has received an appointment that 
will, in future, deprive me of his assistance, and 
leaves me, just now, in need of one who might 
greatly aid with me his pen. Your manner, not- 
withstanding appearances, is a sufficient proof of 


2i2 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


your education, nor will your shoulder suffer you 
to labor for some time to come. My doors are open 
to you, my young friend. Become my assistant, 
for at least a season, and receive such payment as 
your services will deserve. ” 

There was nothing in the manner or the offer of 
the Judge to cause the reluctance with which the 
youth listened to his speech, but after a powerful 
effort for self-command, he replied: 

“I would serve you, sir, or any other man, for an 
honest support, for I do not pretend to conceal 
that my necessities are very great, even beyond 
what appearances would show; but I am fearful 
that such new duties would interfere too much 
with more important business, so that I must 
decline your offer and depend on my rifle, as before, 
for a living.” 

“It is an uncertain life,” observed the Judge, 
“and one that brings more evils with it than present 
suffering. Trust me, young friend (my experience 
is greater than yours) when I tell you that the un- 
settled life of these hunters is of vast disadvantage 
for purposes of gain, and it totally removes one 
from the benefit of more sacred things.” 

“No, no, Judge,” interrupted Leatherstocking, 
who was hitherto unseen or disregarded; “take 
him into your shanty in welcome, but tell him 
truth. I have lived in the woods for forty long 
years, and have spent five at a time without seeing 
the light of a clearing bigger than a wind-row in the 
trees; and I should like to know where you’ll find 
a man in his sixty-eighth year who can get an easier 


THE PIONEERS 


213 


living, for all your betterments and your deer laws; 
and as for honesty, or doing what’s right between 
man and man, I’ll not turn my back to the longest- 
winded deacon on your patent.” 

“You are an exception, Leatherstocking,” re- 
turned the Judge, nodding good-naturedly at the 
hunter, “or you have a temperance unusual in 
your class and a hardihood exceeding your years. 
But this youth is made of materials too precious 
to be wasted in the forest. I entreat you to join 
my family, if it be but till your arm be healed. 
My daughter, here, who is mistress of my dwelling, 
will tell you that you are welcome.” 

“Certainly,” said Elizabeth, whose earnestness 
was a little checked by womanly reserve. “The 
unfortunate would be welcome at any time, but 
doubly so when we feel that we have occasioned 
the evil ourselves.” 

Finding himself thus ably seconded, the Judge 
pushed his advantage to the utmost. He entered 
into a detail of the duties that would attend the 
situation, and particularly mentioned the reward. 
The youth listened in extreme agitation. There 
was an evident contest in his feelings; at times he 
appeared to wish eagerly for the change, and then 
again the expression of disgust would cross his 
features, like a dark cloud obscuring a noonday 
sun. 

Near them stood the old redskin whom they all 
called “Indian John, the Mohican.” He stood 
listening to the offers of the Judge with an interest 
that increased with each syllable. Gradually he 


2I 4 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


drew nigher to the group, and when, with his keen 
glance, he detected the most marked evidence of 
yielding in the countenance of his young compan- 
ion, he changed to the front of an Indian warrior, 
and moving, with great dignity, closer to the par- 
ties, he spoke: 

“ Listen to your father,” he said; “his words 
are old. Let the Young Eagle and the great Land 
Chief eat together; let them sleep without fear 
near each other. What makes the brother of 
Mohican and the Young Eagle foes ? They are 
of the same tribe; their fathers and mothers are 
one. Learn to wait, my son : you are a Delaware, 
and an Indian warrior knows how to be patient.” 

This figurative address seemed to have great 
weight with the young man, who gradually yielded 
to the words of the Judge, and finally consented to 
his proposal. It was, however, to be an experi- 
ment only; and if either of the parties thought fit 
to withdraw from the engagement, it was left at 
his choice to do so. 

Once outside the mansion, the foresters — for the 
three hunters, notwithstanding their difference in 
character, well deserved this common name — 
pursued their course along the skirts of the village 
in silence. It was not until they had reached the 
lake, and were moving over its frozen surface 
toward the foot of the mountain where stood the 
hut of Leatherstocking, in which they lived, that 
the youth exclaimed : 

“Who could have foreseen this a month since? 
I have consented to serve Marmaduke Temple — to 


THE PIONEERS 


21 5 


be an inmate in the dwelling of the greatest enemy 
of my race; yet what better could I do? The 
service can not be long, and when the motive for 
submitting to it ceases to exist, I will shake it off, 
like the dust from my feet. ” 

“Is he a Mingo, that you will call him enemy ?” 
said the Mohican. “The Delaware warrior sits 
still and waits the time of the Great Spirit. He is 
no woman, to cry out like a child.” 

“I will submit,” said the youth, “I will forget 
who I am. Cease to remember, old Mohican, 
that I am the descendant of a Delaware chief who 
once was master of these noble hills, these beautiful 
vales, and of this water over which we tread. Yes, 
yes, I will become his bondsman — his servant. Is 
it not an honorable servitude, old man ?” 

“Old man!” repeated the Indian, solemnly, and 
pausing in his walk, as usual when much excited; 
“Yes, John is old; his hand is the hand of a 
squaw; his tomahawk is a hatchet, brooms and 
baskets are his enemies — he strikes no other. 
Hunger and old age come together. Take the 
great Land Chief by the hand, my son, and he will 
help you.” 

“Enough is said, my friends,” cried the youth. 
“I feel that everywhere the surrender is required 
at my hands, and it shall be made; but say no 
more, I entreat you; I can not bear this subject 
now 

So the young man came into the household of the 
Judge and began the life of a gentleman; but, 
though earnestly engaged in the service of Judge 


216 leatherstocking tales 


Temple during the days, his nights were often 
spent in the hut of Leatherstocking. John, the 
Mohican, whom Leatherstocking sometimes called 
Chingachgook and sometimes “The Serpent,” 
seldom came to the mansion-house; Leather- 
stocking never came. But Oliver Edwards sought 
every leisure moment to visit his former abode, from 
which he would often return in the gloomy hours of 
the night, through the snow, or, if detained beyond 
the time at which the family retired to rest, with the 
morning sun. 

Elizabeth Temple, who had been away from 
her father so long, was interested in all the people 
and plans she was brought in contact with, and one 
day questioned her father about Leatherstocking. 

Her father told her that it was on his first visit 
to the forest section in which they now lived, that, 
tired and hungry, he was descending the mountains 
when he saw, on the eastern bank of the lake, a 
line of curling smoke. 

“It was,” he said, “the only indication of the 
vicinity of man that I had then seen. After much 
toil I made my way to the spot, and found a rough 
cabin of logs built against the foot of a rock and 
bearing the marks of a tenant, though I found no 
one within it — ” 

“It was the hut of Leatherstocking,” said Ed- 
wards, quickly. 

“It was, though I at first supposed it to be a 
habitation of the Indians. But while I was linger- 
ing around the spot, Natty, as I soon came to call 
Leatherstocking, made his appearance, staggering 


THE PIONEERS 


2I 7 


under the carcass of a buck that he had slain. Our 
acquaintance began at that time; before, I had 
never heard that such a being tenanted the woods. 
He launched his bark canoe and set me across the 
foot of the lake, to the place where I had fastened 
my horse, and pointed out a spot where he might 
get a scanty browsing until the morning, when I 
returned and passed the night in the cabin of the 
hunter.” 

“And how did Leatherstocking discharge the 
duties of a host, sir ?” 

“Why, simply but kindly, until late in the eve- 
ning, when he discovered my name and object, and 
the cordiality of his manner very sensibly dimin- 
ished, or, I might better say, disappeared. He 
considered the introduction of the settlers as a 
trespass on his rights, I believe, for he expressed 
much dissatisfaction at the measure. I hardly 
understood his objections, myself, but supposed 
they related chiefly to an interruption of the 
hunting. ” 

“ Said he nothing of the Indian rights, sir ? The 
Leatherstocking is much given to speak against the 
right of the whites to hold the country. ” 

“I remember that he spoke of them, but I did 
not clearly comprehend him, and may have for- 
gotten what he said; for the Indian title was ended 
so far back as the close of the old war, and if it 
had not been at all, I hold under the patents of 
the Royal Governors, confirmed by an act of our 
own State Legislature, and no court in the country 
can affect my title, ” 


218 leatherstocking tales 


“ Doubtless, sir, your title is both legal and just,” 
returned the youth, coldly, and remained silent till 
the subject was changed. 

This question of whether the land belonged to 
the Indians or to the pioneers who occupied and 
cleared it, was a question of hot debate in those 
days; but Leatherstocking, as those words of Oliver 
Edwards showed, took the side of the Indians as 
the real owners. 

There was another way that he could not under- 
stand nor agree to, — that was the law that made 
it lawful to kill deer at certain times of the year 
only. 

This law was, of course, to protect the game and 
keep it from being quite killed off. But Natty 
could not understand it. 

“When I am hungry I must eat,” he said, “law 
or no law.” And so he would frequently have got- 
ten into difficulty had it not been for Judge Tem- 
ple’s protection, which made an exception in favor 
of Leatherstocking. 

But there was one man, the constable of the vil- 
lage, named Hiram Doolittle, who was determined 
to get Leatherstocking into trouble. It was be- 
cause he had seen this man prowling about Natty’s 
hut, as if he were trying to spy what was inside, 
that young Oliver Edwards hunted out the old 
man one day to warn him. 

Standing on the shore of the lake, he saw the 
light-colored bark canoe of his companions riding 
on the water, and containing two figures that he at 
once knew to be the Mohican and the Leather- 


THE PIONEERS 


219 


stocking. He pulled, in a very few minutes, to the 
place where his friends were fishing, and fastened 
his boat to the light vessel of the Indian. The old 
men received Oliver with welcoming nods, but 
neither drew his line from the water nor in the 
least varied his occupation. When Edwards had 
secured his own boat, he baited his hook and threw 
it into the lake, without speaking. 

“ Did you stop at the wigwam, lad, as you rowed 
past ?” asked Natty. 

“Yes, and I found all safe; but that carpenter 
and constable, Mr., or, as they call him, Squire, 
Doolittle, was prowling through the woods. I 
made sure of the door before I left the hut.” 

“There’s little to be said in favor of that man,” 
said Natty, while he drew in a perch and baited his 
hook. “He craves dreadfully to come into the 
cabin, and has as good as asked me as much to my 
face; but I put him oflF with unsartain answers.” 

“I fear he is more knave than fool,” cried Ed- 
wards. “I dread that his impertinent curiosity 
may yet give us much trouble.” 

“If he harbors too much about the cabin, lad, 
I’ll shoot the creater,” said the Leatherstocking, 
quite simply. 

“No, no, Natty; you must remember the law,” 
said Edwards, “or we shall have you in trouble; 
and that would be an evil day, and sore tidings to 
all.” 

For a short time a profound silence prevailed, 
during which each man was very busy with his 
hook and line; but Edwards, probably feeling that 


220 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


it remained with him to renew the discourse, soon 
observed : 

“I see no more reason for a law against deer- 
shooting than for one forbidding fishing, and cer- 
tainly catching thousands of fish with a seine* wilh 
shortly make it impossible to catch fish at all.” 

“ You’re right, my boy,” replied Leatherstock- 
ing, “if people would only fish with the spear, and 
kill no more than they require, it would be vastly 
better for all.” 

The hunter was about to speak again, when, 
bending his ear near the water, he sat holding his 
breath and listening attentively, as if to some dis- 
tant sound. At length he raised his head and said: 

“If I hadn’t fastened the hounds with my own 
hands with a fresh leash of green buckskin, I’d 
take a Bible oath that I heard old Hector ringing 
his cry on the mountain.” 

“It is impossible,” said Edwards; “it is not an 
hour since I saw him in his kennel.” 

By this time the attention of the Mohican was 
attracted to the sounds; but although the youth 
was both silent and attentive, he could hear noth- 
ing but the lowing of some cattle from the western 
hills. He laughed aloud at what he deemed to be 
their imaginary sounds. 

“Laugh, if you will, boy,” said Leatherstocking; 
“the hounds be out, and are hunting a deer. No 
man can deceive me in such a matter. I wouldn’t 
have had the thing happen for a beaver’s skin. Not 

*A seine is a large net used in fishing. 


THE PIONEERS 


221 


that I care for the law, but the venison is lean 
now, and the dumb things run the flesh off their 
own bones for no good. Now do you hear the 
hounds ?” 

Edwards started as a full cry broke on his ear, 
changing from the distant sounds that were caused 
by some intervening hill to confused echoes that 
rang among the rocks that the dogs were passing, 
and then directly to a deep and hollow baying that 
pealed under the forest on the lake shore. These 
variations in the tones of the hounds passed with 
amazing rapidity; and while his eyes were glanc- 
ing along the margin of the water, a tearing of the 
branches of the alder and dog-wood caught his at- 
tention, at a spot near them, and at the next mo- 
ment a noble buck sprang from the shore and buried 
himself in the lake. A full-mouthed cry followed, 
when Hector and the pup shot through the open- 
ing in the bushes and darted into the lake also, 
bearing their breasts gallantly against the water. 

“I know’d it — I know’d it!” cried Natty, 
when both deer and hounds were in full view; 
“the buck has gone by them with the wind, and it 
has been too much for the poor rogues; but I 
must break them of these tricks or they’ll give 
me a deal of trouble. He-re, he-re — ’shore with 
you, rascals — ’shore with you — will ye? Oh! 
off with you, old Hector, or I’ll hatchel your hide 
with my ramrod when I get ye.” 

The dogs knew their master’s voice, and after 
swimming in a circle, as if reluctant to give over 
the chase, and yet afraid to persevere, they finally 


222 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

obeyed, and returned to the land, where they filled 
the air with their cries. 

In the meantime the deer, urged by his fears, 
had swum over half the distance between the shore 
and the boats before his terror permitted him to see 
the new danger. But at the sound of Natty’s 
voice he turned short in his course, and for a few 
moments seemed about to rush back again and 
brave the dogs. His retreat in this direction was, 
however, effectually cut off, and, turning a second 
time, he urged his course for the center of the lake, 
with an intention of landing on the western shore. 
As the buck swam by the fishermen, raising his 
nose high into the air, curling the water before his 
slim neck like the bead on the prow of a boat, the 
Leatherstocking began to sit very uneasy in his 
canoe. 

“ ’Tis a noble creater!” he exclaimed; “what 
a pair of horns! A man might hang up all his 
garments on the branches. Let me see — July is 
the last month, and the flesh must be getting good.” 
While he was talking, Natty had instinctively 
employed himself in fastening the inner end of the 
bark rope, that served him for a cable, to a paddle, 
and rising suddenly on his legs, he cast this buoy 
away, and cried: “Strike out, John! let her go. 
The creater’ s a fool to tempt a man in this way.” 

The Mohican threw the fastening of the youth’s 
boat from the canoe, and with one stroke of his 
paddle sent the light bark over the water like a 
meteor. 

“Hold!” exclaimed Edwards. “Remember the 


THE PIONEERS 


223 


law, my old friends. You are in plain sight of 
the village, and I know that Judge Temple is de- 
termined to punish all who kill deer out of season. ” 

The protest came too late; the canoe was already 
far from the skiff, and the two hunters were too 
much engaged in the pursuit to listen to his voice. 

The buck was now within fifty yards of his 
pursuers, cutting the water gallantly, and snorting 
at each breath with terror and his exertions, while 
the canoe seemed to dance over the waves, as it 
rose and fell with the undulations made by its own 
motion. Leatherstocking raised his rifle and 
freshened the priming, but stood in suspense 
whether to slay his victim or not. 

“Shall I, John, or no ?” he said. “It seems but 
a poor advantage to take of the dumb thing, too. 
I won’t; it has taken to the water on its own nater, 
which is the reason that God has given to a deer, 
and I’ll give it the lake play; so, John, lay out your 
arm, and mind the turn of the buck; it’s easy to 
catch them, but they’ll turn like a snake.” 

The Indian continued to send the canoe forward 
with swiftness that proceeded much more from his 
skill than his strength. Both of the old men now 
used the language of the Delawares when they 
spoke. 

“Hugh!” exclaimed the Mohican; “the deer 
turns his head. Hawkeye, lift your spear.” 

Natty never moved abroad without taking with 
him every implement that might, by possibility, 
be of service in his pursuits. From his rifle he 
never parted; and although intending to fish with 


224 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


the line, the canoe was invariably furnished with 
all of its utensils. The hunter did as the Indian 
advised, and prepared to strike a blow, with the 
barbed weapon, into the neck of the buck. 

He saw the deer coming bravely toward him, 
with an apparent intention of pushing for a point 
of land at some distance from the hounds, who 
were still barking and howling on the shore. 
Edwards caught the rope used for tying of his skiff, 
and, making a noose, cast it from him with all his 
force, and luckily succeeded in drawing its knot 
close around one of the antlers of the buck. 

For one instant the skiff was drawn through the 
water, but in the next the canoe glided before it, 
and Natty, bending low, passed his knife across the 
throat of the animal, whose blood followed the 
wound, dyeing the waters. The short time that 
was passed in the last struggles of the animal was 
spent by the hunters in bringing their boats together 
and securing them in that position, when Leather- 
stocking drew the deer from the water and laid its 
lifeless form in the bottom of the canoe. He 
placed his hands on the ribs, and on different parts 
of the body of his prize, and then, raising his head, 
he laughed in his peculiar manner. 

“So much for Marmaduke Temple’s law!” he 
said. “This warms a body’s blood, old John. I 
haven’t killed a buck in the lake afore this sin’ 
many a year. I call that good vension, lad; and 
I know them that will relish the creater’s steaks for 
all the betterments in the land.” 

“I am afraid, Natty,” said Edwards, when the 


THE PIONEERS 


225 

heat of the moment had passed, and his blood 
began to cool, “that we have all been equally 
disobedient of the law. But keep your own coun- 
sel, and there are none here to betray us. Yet 
how came those dogs at large ? I left them 
securely fastened, I know, for I felt the thongs 
and examined the knots when I was at the hut.” 

“It has been too much for the poor things,” 
said Natty, “to have such a buck take the wind 
of them. See, lad, the pieces of the buckskin are 
hanging from their necks yet. Let us paddle up, 
John, and I will call them in and look a little into 
the matter.” 

When the old hunter landed, and examined 
the thongs that were yet fast to the hounds, his 
countenance sensibly changed, and he shook his 
head doubtingly. 

“Here has been a knife at work,” he said; “this 
skin was never torn, nor is it the work of a hound’s 
tooth. No, no; Hector is not in fault, as I feared.” 

“Has the leather been cut?” cried Edwards. 

“No, no — I didn’t say it had been cut, lad; but 
this is a mark that was never made by a jump or a 
bite.” 

“Could that rascally constable have dared ?” 

“Ay! he durst do anything, when there is no 
danger,” said Natty; “he is a curious body, and 
loves to be helping other people on with their con- 
sarns. But he had best not prowl around so much 
near the wigwam!” 

In the meantime the Mohican had been examin- 
ing, with an Indian’s sagacity, the place where the 


15 


226 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


leather thong had been separated. After scrutin- 
izing it closely he said, in Delaware: 

“It was cut with a knife — a sharp blade and a 
long handle — the man was afraid of the dogs.” 

“How is this, John?” exclaimed Edwards: 
“You saw it not; how can you know these facts ?” 

“Listen, son,” said the warrior. “The knife 
was sharp, for the cut is smooth; the handle was 
long, for a man’s arm would not reach from this 
gash to the cut that did not go through the skin: 
he was a coward, or he would not have cut the 
thongs around the necks of the hounds.” 

“On my life,” cried Natty, “John is on the 
scent! It was the constable, and he has got on the 
rock back of the kennel and let the dogs loose by 
fastening his knife to a stick. It would be an easy 
matter to do it, where a man is so minded.” 

“Your suspicions are just,” said Edwards. 
“Give me the canoe: I am young and strong, and 
will get down there yet, perhaps, in time to interrupt 
his plans. Heaven forbid that we should be at the 
mercy of such a man!” 

His proposal was accepted, the deer being placed 
in the skiff* in order to lighten the canoe, and in less 
than five minutes the little vessel of bark was glid- 
ing over the glassy lake, and was soon hid by the 
points of land, as it shot close along the shore. 

The Mohican followed slowly with the skiff, 
while Natty called his hounds to him, bade them 
keep close, and, shouldering his rifle, ascended the 
mountain, with the intention of going to the hut by 
land. 


THE PIONEERS 


227 


That very day Elizabeth Temple and her friend, 
the minister’s daughter, were strolling over the 
hills near Templeton. Though the forests were 
dense, danger at that summer season was not 
thought of, and the two girls walked and talked, 
picked flowers, and admired the green and blue of 
forest, lake, and sky, thinking it not possible that 
anything could harm them so long as they had with 
them Elizabeth’s noble and watchful mastiff, Brave. 

Suddenly, their dog was attacked by a female 
panther, and after a violent struggle was killed 
by the wild beast. 

Elizabeth now lay wholly at the mercy of the 
panther. There is said to be something in the 
front of the image of the Maker that daunts the 
hearts of the inferior beings of His creation; and 
it would seem that some such power, in the present 
instance, suspended the threatened blow. The 
eyes of the monster and the kneeling maiden met 
for an instant, 

Elizabeth Temple did not, or could not, move. 
Her hands were clasped in the attitude of prayer, 
but her eyes were still drawn to her terrible enemy 
— her cheeks were blanched to the whiteness of 
marble, and her lips were slightly separated with 
horror. 

The moment seemed now to have arrived for the 
fatal end, and the beautiful figure of Elizabeth was 
bowing meekly to the stroke, when a rustling of 
leaves behind seemed to meet her ears. 

“Hist! Hist!” said a low voice. “Stoop lower, 
gal; your bonnet hides the creater’s head.” 


228 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


It was rather the yielding of nature than a com- 
pliance with this unexpected order that caused the 
head of our heroine to sink on her bosom; when 
she heard the report of the rifle, the whizzing of the 
bullet, and the enraged cries of the beast, who was 
rolling over on the earth biting its own flesh and 
tearing the twigs and branches within its reach. 
At the next instant the form of Leatherstocking 
rushed by her, and he called aloud: 

“ Come in, Hector, come in, old fool; , tis a hard- 
lived animal, and may jump ag’in.” 

Natty fearlessly kept his position in front of the 
two young women, notwithstanding the violent 
bounds and threatening looks of the wounded 
panther, which gave several indications of return- 
ing strength and ferocity, until his rifle was again 
loaded, when he stepped up to the enraged animal, 
and, placing the muzzle close to its head, every 
spark of life was put out by the discharge. 

The death of her terrible enemy appeared to 
Elizabeth like a resurrection from her own grave. 
There was an elasticity in the mind of our heroine 
that rose to meet the pressure of instant danger, 
and the more direct it had been the more her nature 
had struggled to overcome them. 

The thanks of both girls were uttered with the 
warmth that might be expected from the character 
of Elizabeth. Natty received her earnest words 
of gratitude with a simple expression of good-will, 
and with indulgence for her present excitement, but 
with a carelessness that showed how little he 
thought of the service he had rendered, 


THE PIONEERS 


229 


“Well, well,” he said, “be it so, gal; let it be so, 
if you wish it; we’ll talk the thing over another 
time. Come, come; let us get into the road, for 
you’ve had terror enough to make you wish your- 
self in your father’s house ag’in.” 

This was uttered as they were proceeding, at a 
pace that was adapted to the weakness of Louisa, 
toward the highway; on reaching which the ladies 
separated from their guide, declaring themselves 
equal to the remainder of the walk without his 
assistance. 

Leatherstocking remained on the hill, gazing 
after their retiring figures until they were hidden 
by a bend in the road, when he whistled in his dogs, 
and, shouldering his rifle, returned into the forest. 

“Well, it was a skeary thing to the young crea- 
ters,” said Natty, while he retrod the path toward 
the plain. “It might frighten an older woman to 
see a she painter so near her, with a dead cub by its 
side. It was a good shot, considering that I could 
see nothing but the head and the peak of its tail. 
Hah! who goes there ?” 

“How goes it, Natty?” said Mr. Doolittle, the 
village constable, stepping out of the bushes with 
a motion that was a good deal quickened by the 
sight of the rifle that was already lowered in his 
direction. “What! shooting this warm day! Mind, 
old man, the law don’t get hold on you.” 

“The law, Squire! I have shook hands with the 
law these forty years,” returned Natty; “for what 
has a man who lives in the wilderness to do with 
the ways of the law ?” 


2 3 o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“Not much, maybe,” said Hiram; “but you 
sometimes trade in vension. I s’pose you know, 
Leatherstocking, that there is an act passed to lay 
a fine of five pounds currency, or twelve dollars and 
fifty cents, on every man who kills deer betwixt 
January and August. The Judge had a great hand 
in getting the law through. ” 

“I can believe it,” returned the old hunter; “I 
can believe that or anything of a man who carries 
on as he does in the country.” 

“Yes, the law is quite positive, and the Judge is 
bent on putting it in force — five pounds penalty. 
I thought I heard your hounds out on the scent of 
so’thing this morning; I didn’t know but they 
might get you in difficulty. ” 

“They know their manners too well,” said 
Natty, carelessly. “And how much goes to the 
State’s evidence, Squire?” 

“How much!” repeated Hiram, quailing under 
the honest but sharp look of the hunter; “the in- 
former gets half, I — I believe — yes, I guess it’s 
half. But there’s blood on your sleeve, man — you 
haven’t been shooting anything this morning?” 

“I have, though,” said the hunter, nodding his 
head significantly to the other, “and a good shot I 
made of it.” 

“ H-e-m ! ” ejaculated the magistrate, “ and where 
is the game ? I s’pose it’s of a good nater, for your 
dogs won’t hunt at anything that isn’t choice. ” 
“They’ll hunt anything I tell them to, Squire,” 
cried Natty, favoring the other with his laugh. 
“They’ll hunt you, if I say so. He-e-e-re, 


THE PIONEERS 


231 

Hector — he-e-e-re, — come this way, pups — come 
this way — come hither. ” 

“Oh! I have always heard a good character of 
the dogs,” returned Mr. Doolittle, quickening his 
pace by raising each leg in rapid succession, as the 
hounds scented around his person. “And where 
is the game, Leatherstocking ?” 

During this dialogue the speakers had been 
walking at a very fast gait, and Natty swung the 
end of his rifle round, pointing through the bushes, 
and replied. 

“There lies one. How do you like such meat ?” 

“This!” exclaimed Hiram, “why this is Judge 
Temple’s dog Brave. Take care, Leatherstock- 
ing, and don’t make an enemy of the Judge. I 
hope you haven’t harmed the animal?” 

“Look for yourself, Mr. Doolittle,” said Natty, 
drawing his knife from his girdle, and wiping it, 
in a knowing manner, once or twice across his 
garment of buckskin; “does his throat look as if I 
had cut it with this knife ?” 

“It is dreadfully torn! It’s an awful wound — 
no knife ever did this deed. Who could have done 
it?” 

“The painters behind you, Squire.” 

“Painters ?” echoed Hiram, whirling on his heel 
with an agility that would have done credit to a 
dancing-master. 

“Be easy, man,” said Natty; “there’s two of 
the venomous things ; but the dog finished one and 
I have fastened the other’s jaws for her; so don’t 
be frightened, Squire, they won’t hurt you.” 


2 3 2 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“And where’s the deer?” cried Hiram, staring 
about him with a bewildered air. 

“Anan! deer!” repeated Natty. 

“Sartain; ain’t there venison here, or didn’t 
you kill a buck ?” 

“What! when the law forbids the thing, 
Squire?” said the old hunter. “I hope there’s 
no law ag’in killing the painters. ” 

“No; there’s a bounty on the scalps — but — will 
your dogs hunt painters, Natty ?” 

“Anything; didn’t I tell you they’d hunt a man ? 
He-e-e-re, he-e-e-re, pups — ” 

“Yes, yes, I remember. Well, they are strange 
dogs, I must say — I am quite in a wonderment. ” 

Natty had seated himself on the ground, and 
having laid the grim head of his late ferocious 
enemy on his lap, was drawing his knife with a 
practised hand around the ears, which he tore 
from the head of the beast in such a manner as 
to preserve their connection, when he answered: 

“What at, Squire ? Did you never see a painter’s 
scalp afore ? Come, you are a magistrate; I wish 
you’d make me out an order for the bounty.” 

“But we have no pen or paper here, Leather- 
stocking; we must go to the hut for them, or how 
can I write the order ?” 

Natty turned his simple features on the cunning 
magistrate, with another of his laughs, as he said: 

“And what should I be doing with scholars’ 
tools ? I want no pens or paper, not knowing the 
use of either; and I keep none. No, no; I’ll bring 
the scalps into the village, Squire, and you can 


THE PIONEERS 


233 


make out the order on one of your law-books, and 
it will be all the better for it. The deuce take this 
leather on the neck of the dog, it will strangle the 
old fool. Can you lend me a knife, Squire ?” 

Hiram, who seemed particularly anxious to be on 
good terms with his companion, unhesitatingly 
complied. Natty cut the thong from the neck of 
the hound, and, as he returned the knife to its 
owner, carelessly remarked: 

“ ’Tis a good bit of steel, and has cut such 
leather as this very same before now, I dare say.” 

“Do you mean to charge me with setting your 
hounds loose?” exclaimed the other, with a con- 
sciousness that made him forget his caution. 

“ Look you here, Mr. Doolittle,” said the hunter, 
turning on the constable and striking the breech 
of his rifle violently on the ground, “what there is 
in the wigwam of a poor man like me that one like 
you can crave, I don’t know; but this I tell you 
to your face, that you never shall put foot under 
the roof of my cabin with my consent, and that if 
you hang round the spot as you have done lately 
you will meet with treatment that you will little 
relish.” 

“And let me tell you, Mr. Bumpo,” said Hiram, 
retreating, however, with a quick step, “that I 
know you’ve broke the law, and that I’m a magis- 
trate, and will make you feel it, too, before you are 
a day older.” 

“That for you, and your law, too,” cried Natty, 
snapping his fingers at the justice of the peace. 
“Away with you, you varmint, before the devil 


2 34 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


tempts me to give you your desarts. Take care, 
if I ever catch your prowling face in the woods 
ag’in, that I don’t shoot it for an owl.” 

There is something at all times commanding 
in honest indignation, and Hiram did not stay to 
provoke the wrath of the old hunter to extremities. 
When the intruder was out of sight, Natty pro- 
ceeded to the hut, where he found all quiet as the 
grave. He fastened his dogs, and tapping at the 
door, which was opened by Edwards, asked : 

“Is all safe, lad?” 

“ Everything, ” returned the youth. “ Some one 
attempted the lock, but it was too strong for him. ” 

“I know thq creater,” said Natty, “but he’ll not 
trust himself within reach of my rifle very soon — ” 
What more was uttered by the Leatherstocking, 
in his vexation, was rendered inaudible by the 
closing of the door of the cabin. 

But Natty Bumpo’s vexation was destined to 
grow into real and serious trouble. 

For, upon charges being made against him by 
the constable, that he had killed a deer out of 
season, Judge Temple was obliged to issue a war- 
rant and order a fine, even though, in his joy at the 
escape of his daughter from the panther, he was 
ready at once to pay the fine himself, and also see 
that Leatherstocking received the bounty promised 
by the State for the scalp of a panther. 

But Leatherstocking was a curious old fellow. 
He did not understand, and, indeed, openly resisted 
the law of the frontier, and when Constable Doo- 
little and Billy Wiley came to his hut to serve the 


THE PIONEERS 


2 35 


warrant and lay the fine, he not only refused to 
allow them to do this or to enter his hut, but drove 
them away with his rifle, the unerring aim of which 
all the border knew. 

This defiance and resistance to the law even 
Judge Temple could not overlook, and he was 
forced to issue an order to arrest “ Nathaniel 
Bumpo, sometimes called Leatherstocking, ,, and 
place him in the village jail. 

As for young Edwards, when he knew that his 
friend was to be arrested, he turned upon Judge 
Temple with reproach and indignation. 

But the Judge had determined to enforce the 
law and protect its officers. Edwards’ plea was of 
no avail, and after a stormy scene the young man 
rushed from the house and took his way at once to 
Leatherstocking’s hut. 

Meantime the officers had gone to the forest to 
arrest the old man. So desperate a character was 
Leatherstocking considered by the pioneers, on 
account of his obstinacy and his rifle, that it was 
thought best to send a strong force to arrest him, 
and so the force that approached the hut was com- 
posed of a dozen armed men. The men divided, 
some plunging deeper into the forest, in order to 
gain their stations without giving an alarm, and 
others continuing to advance, at a gait that would 
allow the whole party to go in order; but all devis- 
ing the best plan to repulse the attack of a dog, or 
to escape a rifle-bullet. It was a moment of dread 
expectation and interest. 

When time enough had passed for the different 


236 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

divisions of the force to arrive at their stations, the 
leader raised his voice in the silence of the forest, 
and shouted the watchword. The men rushed up 
the bank, and in a moment stood on the little piece 
of cleared ground in front of the spot where Natty 
had so long lived. To their amazement, in place 
of the hut they saw only its smouldering ruins. 

The whole group were yet in the fulness of their 
surprise, when a tall form stalked from the gloom 
into the circle, treading down the hot ashes and 
dying embers with callous feet; and standing over 
the light, lifted his cap, and exposed the bare head 
and weather-beaten features of Leatherstocking. 
For a moment he gazed at the dusky figures who 
surrounded him, more in sorrow than in anger, 
before he spoke. 

“ What would ye with an old and helpless man ?” 
he said. “You’ve driven God’s creaters from the 
wilderness, where His providence had put them for 
His own pleasure; and you’ve brought in the 
troubles and divilries of the law where no man was 
ever known to disturb another. You have driven 
me, that have lived forty long years of my appointed 
time in this very spot, from my home and the shel- 
ter of my head. Lest you should put your wicked 
feet and wasty ways in my cabin, you’ve driven 
me to burn these logs, under which I’ve eaten and 
drunk — for the half of a hundred years; and to 
mourn the ashes under my feet as a man would 
weep and mourn for the children of his body. 
And now when an old man has come to see the 
last brand of his hut, before it is melted in ashes, 


THE PIONEERS 


237 

you follow him up, at midnight, like hungry 
hounds on the track of a worn-out and dying deer. 
What more would ye have ? I come to mourn, not 
to fight; and, if it is God’s pleasure, work your will 
on me.” 

When the old man ended, he stood, with the 
light glimmering around his thinly covered head, 
looking earnestly at the group, which drew back 
from the pile with an involuntary movement. 
After a pause of a few moments, the leader of the 
officers of the law began to rally his confused facul- 
ties; and, advancing, apologized for his duty, and 
made Leatherstocking his prisoner. The party 
now collected; and, preceded by the sheriff, with 
Natty in their center, they took their way toward 
the village. 

During the walk, various questions were put to 
the prisoner concerning his reasons for burning 
the hut, and whither the Mohican had retreated; 
but to all of them he observed a profound silence, 
until, fatigued with their previous duties and the 
lateness of the hour, the sheriff and his followers 
reached the village and dispersed to their several 
places of rest, after turning the key of a jail on the 
aged and apparently friendless Leatherstocking. 

It went badly enough for poor Leatherstocking 
at his trial. Pioneers are anxious always to uphold 
the law, and the open resistance made by the old 
hunter was a crime in the eye of the law that could 
not be overlooked. 

So, when the jury had found him guilty, Judge 
Temple felt compelled, even though he hated to do 


238 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

so, to impose upon the prisoner the sentence of the 
law. 

“Nathaniel Bumpo,” commenced the judge, 
making the customary pause. 

The old hunter, who had been musing again, 
with his head on the bar, raised himself, and cried, 
with a prompt, military tone: 

“Here!” 

The judge waved his hand for silence, and pro- 
ceeded : 

“In forming their sentence the court have been 
greatly governed as much by the consideration of 
your ignorance of the laws as by a strict sense of the 
importance of punishing such outrages as this of 
which you have been found guilty. They have 
therefore passed over the obvious punishment of 
whipping on the bare back, in mercy to your years; 
but, as the dignity of the law requires an open 
exhibition of the consequences of your crime, it is 
ordered that you be taken from this room to the 
public stocks, where you are to be confined for one 
hour; that you pay a fine to the State of one hun- 
dred dollars, and that you be imprisoned in the 
jail of this county for one calendar month; and, 
furthermore, that your imprisonment do not cease 
until the said fine shall be paid. I feel it my duty, 
Nathaniel Bumpo — ” 

“And where should I get the money?” inter- 
rupted Leatherstocking eagerly. “Where should 
I get the money? You’ll take away the bounty 
on the painters because I cut the throat of a deer, 
and how is an old man to find so much gold or 


THE PIONEERS 


*39 


silver in the woods ? No, no, Judge; think better 
of it, and don’t talk of shutting me up in a jail for 
the little time I have to stay.” 

“If you have anything to urge against the pass- 
ing of the sentence, the court will yet hear you,” 
said the Judge mildly. 

“I have enough to say ag’in it,” cried Natty, 
grasping the bar on which his fingers were working 
with convulsive motion. “Where am I to get the 
money ? Let me out into the woods and hills, 
where Eve been used to breathe the clear air, and, 
though I’m threescore-and-ten, if you’ve left game 
enough in the country, I’ll travel night and day 
but I’ll make you up the sum afore the season is 
over. 

“ I must be governed by the law — ” 

“Talk not to me of law, Marmaduke Temple,” 
interrupted the hunter. “Did the beast of the 
forest mind your laws when it was thirsty and 
hungering for the blood of your own child ? She 
was kneeling to her God for a greater favor than I 
ask, and He heard her; and if you now say ‘No’ to 
my prayers, do you think He will be deaf?” 

“ My private feelings must not enter into — ” 

“Hear me, Marmaduke Temple,” interrupted 
the old man, with melancholy earnestness, “and 
hear reason. I’ve traveled these mountains when 
you was no judge, but an infant in your mother’s 
arms, and I feel as if I had a right and a privilege 
to travel them ag’in afore I die. Have you forgot 
the time that you come on to the lake shore, when 
there wasn’t even a jail to lodge in, and didn’t I 


2 4 o leatherstocking tales 


give you my own bearskin to sleep on, and the fat 
of a noble buck to satisfy the cravings of your 
hunger? Yes, yes; you thought it no sin then to 
kill a deer! And this I did, though I had no rea- 
son to love you, for you had never done anything 
but harm to them that loved and sheltered me. 
And now, will you shut me up in your dungeons to 
pay me for my kindness? A hundred dollars! 
Where should I get the money ? Come, friend, let 
me pass; it’s long sin’ Tve been used to such 
crowds, and I crave to be in the woods ag’in. 
Where are you, pups? Come away, dogs; come 
away! We have a grievous toil to do for our years, 
but it shall be done; yes, yes, Tve promised it, and 
it shall be done.” 

“There must be an end to this,” said the Judge, 
struggling to overcome his feelings. “Constable, 
lead the prisoner to the stocks. Mr. Clerk, what 
stands next on the calendar?” 

Natty seemed to yield to his destiny, for he sunk 
his head on his chest and followed the officer from 
the court room in silence. The crowd moved 
back for the passage of the prisoner, and when his 
tall form was seen descending from the outer door a 
rush of the people for the scene of his disgrace 
followed. 

Without a murmur the old hunter submitted to 
the punishment of the stocks; and when this was 
over he was led into the jail and locked up for the 
night. 

But before the close of the day young Oliver 
Edwards was seen at the window in earnest dia- 


THE PIONEERS 


241 


logue with his friend; and after he departed it was 
thought that he had communicated words of com- 
fort to the hunter, who threw himself on his pallet 
and was soon in a deep sleep. 

The law having been upheld, Judge Temple 
determined to show his personal friendship and 
gratitude to Leatherstocking by paying the line and 
promising to care for him after the term of his 
imprisonment was over. But he bade his daughter 
act as his messenger. 

“You have reason, Bess, and much of it, too, but 
your heart lies too near your head. But listen: 
in this pocket-book are two hundred dollars. Go 
to the prison — there are none in this place to harm 
you — give this note to the jailer, and when you see 
Bumpo, say what you please to the poor old man; 
but try to remember, Elizabeth, that the laws can 
alone remove us from the condition of the savages; 
that he has been criminal, and that his judge was 
your father. ” 

Miss Temple made no reply, but she pressed 
the hand that held the pocket-book to her bosom, 
and taking her friend, Louisa Grant, by the arm, 
they issued together from the enclosure into the 
principal street of the village. 

As they pursued their walk in silence, under the 
row of houses, where the deeper gloom of the eve- 
ning effectually concealed their persons, no sound 
reached them excepting the slow tread of a yoke of 
oxen, with the rattling of a cart, that were moving 
along the street in the same direction with them- 
selves. The figure of the teamster was barely to 


16 


242 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

be seen by the dim light, lounging by the side of his 
cattle with a listless air, as if fatigued by the toil of 
the day. At the corner, where the jail stood, the 
progress of the ladies was hindered for a moment 
by the oxen, who were turned up to the side of the 
building, and given a lock of hay, which they car- 
ried on their necks, as a reward for their patient 
labor. The whole of this was so natural and so 
common that Elizabeth saw nothing to induce a 
second glance at the team, until she heard the team- 
ster speaking to his cattle in a low voice: 

“ Mind yourself, Brindle; will you, sir! will you!” 

There was something in the voice that startled 
Miss Temple. On turning the corner she neces- 
sarily approached the man, and her look was en- 
abled to detect the person of Oliver Edwards con- 
cealed under the coarse garb of a teamster. Their 
eyes met at the same instant, and, notwithstanding 
the gloom, and the enveloping cloak of Elizabeth, 
the recognition was mutual. 

“Miss Temple!” “Mr. Edwards!” were ex- 
claimed at the same moment. 

“Is it possible!” exclaimed Edwards, after the 
moment of doubt had passed: “Do I see you so 
nigh the jail ? But you are going to the Rectory. 
I beg pardon; Miss Grant, I believe; I did not 
recognize you at first. ” 

The sigh which Louisa uttered was so faint that 
it was only heard by Elizabeth, who replied 
quickly: 

“We are going not only to the jail, Mr. Edwards, 
but into it. We wish to show the Leatherstocking 


THE PIONEERS 


243 


that we do not forget his services, and that at the 
same time we must be just, we are also grateful. 
I suppose you are on a similar errand; but let me 
beg that you will give us leave to precede you ten 
minutes. Good-night, sir; I — I — am quite sorry, 
Mr. Edwards, to see you reduced to such labor. 
I am sure my father would — 55 

“I shall wait your pleasure, madam / 5 inter- 
rupted the youth, coldly. “May I beg that you 
will not mention my being here ? 55 

Elizabeth promised, and was soon in the pres- 
ence of the prisoner. 

“Leatherstocking ! 55 said Elizabeth, when the 
key of the door was turned on them again, “my 
good friend Leatherstocking! I have come on a 
message of gratitude. Had you submitted to the 
search, worthy old man, the death of the deer would 
have been a trifle, and all would have been well — 55 

“Submit to the sarch ! 55 interrupted Natty, rais- 
ing his face from resting on his knees, without 
rising from the corner where he had seated himself; 
“ d 5 ye think, gal, I would let such a varmint into my 
hut ? But they are wilcome to sarch among the 
coals and ashes now; they 5 ll find only some such 
heap as is to be seen at every potashery in the 
mountains . 55 

The old man dropped his face again on one hand, 
and seemed to be lost in melancholy. 

“The hut can be rebuilt and made better than 
before , 55 returned Miss Temple, “and it shall be 
my office to see it done when your imprisonment is 
ended . 55 


244 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“Can ye raise the dead child ?” said Natty, in a 
sorrowful voice. “ Can ye go into the place where 
you’ve laid your fathers, and mothers, and children, 
and gather together their ashes, and make the same 
men and women of them as afore ? You do not 
know what ’tis to lay your head for more than 
forty years under the cover of the same logs, and to 
look on the same things for the better part of a 
man’s life.” 

“Other logs and better, though, can be had, and 
shall be found for you, my old defender,” said 
Elizabeth. “Your confinement will soon be over, 
and before that time arrives I shall have a house 
prepared for you, where you may spend the close 
of your harmless life in ease and plenty.” 

“Ease and plenty! house!” repeated Natty, 
slowly. “You mean well, you mean well, and I 
quite mourn that it can not be; but he has seen 
me a sight and a laughing-stock, and it can not be.” 

“Ease and plenty!” he repeated. “What ease 
can there be for an old man, who must walk a mile 
across the open fields before he can find a shade to 
hide him from a scorching sun ? Or what plenty is 
there, where you may hunt a day and not start a 
buck, or see anything bigger than a mink, or maybe 
a stray fox? But listen!” he said, suddenly. 

“The time has come to go,” said the hunter, 
listening; “I hear the horns of the oxen rubbing 
ag’in the sides of the jail. You won’t betray us, 
gal ?” he said, looking simply into the face of 
Elizabeth. “You won’t betray an old man, who 
craves to breathe the clear air of heaven ?” 


THE PIONEERS 


2 45 


“But what mean you?” cried the wondering 
Elizabeth. “Here you must stay for thirty days; 
but I have the money for your fine in this purse. 
Take it; pay it in the morning, and be patient for 
your month. I will come often to see you, with 
my friend; we will make up your clothes with our 
own hands; indeed, you shall be comfortable.” 

“Would ye, children?” said Natty, advancing 
across the floor with an air of kindness, and taking 
the hand of Elizabeth; “would ye be so kearful of 
an old man, and just for shooting the beast, which 
cost him nothing ? Such things doesn’t run in 
the blood, I believe, for you seem not to forget a 
favor. 

“I grieve, Leatherstocking,” continued Eliza- 
beth, “that the law requires that you should be 
detained here so long; but, after all, it will be only 
a short month, and — ” 

“A month!” exclaimed Natty, opening his 
mouth with his usual laugh; “not a day, nor a 
night, nor an hour, gal. Judge Temple may 
sintence, but he can’t keep, without a better dun- 
geon than this. The hunter paused and looked 
cautiously around the room, when, laughing again, 
he removed the bedclothes, and discovered a hole 
recently cut in the logs with a mallet and chisel. 
“It’s only a kick, and the outside piece is off, and 
then—” 

“You will not leave us, surely, Leatherstock- 
ing,” broke in Miss Temple; “I beseech you, 
reflect that you will be driven to the woods entirely, 
and that you are fast getting old. Be patient for 


246 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


a little time, when you can go abroad openly, and 
with honor.” See, here is money to discharge the 
fine, and in a month you are free. See, here it is, 
in gold.” 

“Gold!” said Natty, with a kind of childish 
curiosity; “it’s long sin’ Eve seen a gold piece.” 

“These are English guineas, and are yours,” 
said Elizabeth; “an earnest of what shall be done 
for you.” 

“Me! Why should you give me this treasure?” 
said Natty, looking earnestly at the maiden. 

“Why! have you not saved my life? Did you 
not rescue me from the jaws of the beast?” ex- 
claimed Elizabeth. 

The hunter took the money, and continued turn- 
ing it in his hand for some time, piece by piece, 
talking aloud during the operation. 

“There’s a rifle, they say, out on the Cherry 
Valley, that will carry a hundred rods and kill. 
I’ve seen good guns in my day, but none quite 
equal to that. A hundred rods with any sartainty 
is great shooting! Well, well; I’m old, and the 
gun I have will answer my time. Here, child, 
take back your gold. But the hour has come; 
I hear him talking to the cattle, and I must be 
going. You won’t tell of us, gal — you won’t tell 
of us, will ye ?” 

“Tell of you!” echoed Elizabeth. “But take 
the money, old man; take the money, even if you 
go into the mountains.” 

“No, no,” said Natty, shaking his head kindly. 
“I would not rob you so for twenty rifles. But 


THE PIONEERS 


HI 

there’s one thing you can do for me, if ye will, 
that no other is at hand to do.” 

“Name it — name it.” 

“Why, it’s only to buy a canister of powder; 
’twill cost two silver dollars. Will you get it for me 
in the town, gal ? Say, will you get it for me ?” 

“ Will I ? I will bring it to you, Leatherstocking, 
though I toil a day in quest of you through the 
woods. But where shall I find you, and how ?” 

“Where?” said Natty, musing a moment; “to- 
morrow, on the ‘Vision;’ on the very top of the 
‘Vision’ I’ll meet you, child, just as the sun gets 
over our heads. See that it’s the fine grain; 
you’ll know it by the gloss and the price.” 

“I will do it,” said Elizabeth firmly. 

Natty now seated himself, and, placing his feet 
in the hole, with a slight effort he opened a passage 
into the street. The ladies heard the rustling 
of hay, and understood the reason why Edwards 
was in the capacity of a teamster. 

“Let us go,” said the hunter; “’twill be no 
darker to-night, for the moon will rise in an hour.” 

“Stay!” exclaimed Elizabeth; “it should not 
be said that you escaped in the presence of the 
daughter of Judge Temple. Wait, Leather- 
stocking; let us retire before you carry out your 
plan.” 

She retired with a cheery “Good night,” and the 
next instant Leatherstocking was outside the jail. 
Their escape, however, was seen by watchful eyes. 
At once the chase was on. 

“Spread yourselves, men,” cried the constable 


248 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


to the crowd, as he passed the ladies, his heavy feet 
sounding along the street like the tread of a dozen, 
“ spread yourselves. To the mountains; they’ll 
be in the mountains in a quarter of an hour, and 
then look out for a long rifle.” 

His cries were echoed from twenty mouths, for 
not only the jail, but the taverns had sent forth 
their numbers, some earnest in the pursuit, and 
others joining it as in sport. 

The next morning, as she had promised, Eliza- 
beth Temple was out in the mountains, bearing the 
canister of powder. But when she had reached 
that part of the mountain called for its beautiful 
view “the Vision,” a dreadful thing happened. 
The forest were on fire. 

Elizabeth had another narrow escape from 
death. Young Oliver Edwards, who was search- 
ing for his friend, the Mohican, found her and tried 
to rescue her. But the fire, advancing rapidly, 
almost surrounded them just as they discovered 
the Mohican almost overcome by the flames. The 
canister of powder, dropped in the excitement, 
exploded with a loud report, and, guided by this, 
Leatherstocking found them. Taking the Indian 
upon his back, he directed Edwards to wrap Eliza- 
beth in a skin garment of his own, and led them 
through the burning forest. 

It was a narrow escape. Even as they crossed 
the little terrace of rock, one of the dead trees that 
had been tottering for several minutes, fell on the 
spot where they had stood, and filled the air with 
its cinders. 



Leatherstocking Leads the Way. 
















' 











THE PIONEERS 


249 


Such an event quickened the steps of the party, 
who followed the Leatherstocking with the urgency 
required by the occasion. 

“Tread on the soft ground/’ he cried, when they 
were in a gloom where sight availed them but little, 
and keep in the white smoke; keep the skin close 
on her, lad; she’s a precious one, another will be 
hard to be found.” 

Obedient to the hunter’s directions, they fol- 
lowed his steps and advice implicitly; and although 
the narrow passage along the winding of the spring 
led amid burning logs and falling branches, they 
happily accomplished it in safety. No one but a 
man long accustomed to the woods could have 
traced his route through a smoke, in which breath- 
ing was difficult and sight nearly useless; but the 
experience of Natty conducted them to an opening 
through the rocks, where, with a little difficulty, 
they soon descended to another terrace, and 
emerged at once into a tolerably clear atmos- 
phere. 

But John, the Mohican, the old warrior, Ching- 
achgook, who had so long been the companion of 
Leatherstocking, did not survive. 

The Judge was too deeply grateful to Leather- 
stocking for again saving the life of his daughter 
to allow him to be further prosecuted, and he now 
took measures to have all such proceedings aban- 
doned. 

And so it happened that young Oliver and Eliza- 
beth Temple fell in love with each other, greatly 
to the joy of Judge Temple; and at last they were 


250 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


married and lived happily in the great estate at 
Templeton. 

But Leatherstocking would not stay. He had 
seen enough of the ways of civilization; a free 
hunter could not submit to its laws. 

“No,” he said to Oliver and Elizabeth, as he 
stood with them beside the slab they had raised 
to the memory of Chingachgook, the Mohican. 
“No, it’s not all the same here. When I look 
about me, these hills, where I used to count 
sometimes twenty smokes curling over the tree-tops 
from the Delaware camps, it raises mournful 
thoughts to think that not a redskin is left of them 
all. Well, well! the time has come at last, and I 
must go — ” 

“Go!” echoed Edwards. “Whither do you 
go?” 

The Leatherstocking turned his face aside to 
hide the workings of his muscles as he stooped to 
lift a large pack, which he placed deliberately on 
his shoulders. 

“Go!” exclaimed Elizabeth, approaching him 
with a hurried step. “You should not venture 
so far in the woods alone at your time of life, 
Natty; it is imprudent. He is bent, Oliver, on 
some distant hunting.” 

“I know’d the parting would come hard, chil- 
dren; I know’d it would,” said Natty, “and so I 
got aside by myself, and thought if I left ye perhaps 
ye wouldn’t take it unkind, but would know that, 
let the old man’s body go where it might, his feel- 
ings stayed behind him. ” 


THE PIONEERS 


25 1 


“This means something more than common,” 
exclaimed the youth. “ Where is it, Natty, that you 
purpose going ?” 

The hunter drew nigh with a confident, reason- 
ing air, as if what he had to say would silence all 
objections, and replied: 

“Why, lad, they tell me that on the big lakes 
there’s the best of hunting, and a great range, with- 
out a white man on it, unless it may be one like 
myself. I’m weary of living in clearings, and 
where the hammer is sounding in my ears from 
sunrise to sundown. And though I’m much bound 
to ye both, children, — I wouldn’t say it if it was 
not true, — I crave to go into the woods ag’in, I 
do.” 

“Woods!” echoed Elizabeth, trembling with 
her feelings. “ Do you not call these endless forests 
woods ?” 

“Ah! child, these be nothing to a man that’s 
used to the wilderness. I have took but little 
comfort since your father come on with his settlers; 
but I wouldn’t go far while the life was in the body 
that lies under the sod there. But now Chingach- 
gook is gone, and you be both young and happy. 
And now, I thought, was the time to try to get a 
little comfort in the close of my days. Woods, 
indeed! I doesn’t call these woods, childen, where 
I lose myself every day of my life in the clearings. ” 

“If there be anything wanting to your comfort, 
name it, Leatherstocking; if it be attainable it is 
yours,” said Oliver. 

“You mean all for the best, lad; I know it, 


2 5 2 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


and so does the lady, too; but your ways isn’t my 
ways. But somewhere we’ll meet at last, children; 
somewhere. Yes, ind as you’ve begun, and we 
shall meet in the land of the just at last. ” 

“This is so new, so unexpected!” said Elizabeth, 
in almost breathless excitement. “I had thought 
you meant to live with us and die with us, Natty.” 

“ Words are of no avail, ” exclaimed her husband ; 
“the habits of forty years are not to be broken by 
the ties of a day. I know you too well to urge you 
further, Natty, unless you will let me build you a 
hut on one of the distant hills, where we can some- 
times see you and know that you are comfortable.” 

“Don’t fear for the Leatherstocking, children; 
God will see that his days be provided for, and his 
ind happy. I know you mean all for the best, but 
our ways doesn’t agree. I love the woods, and ye 
relish the face of man; I eat when hungry and 
drink when a-dry, and ye keep stated hours and 
rules. Nay, nay; you even overfeed the dogs, 
lad, from pure kindness; and hounds should be 
gaunty to run well. The meanest of God’s crea- 
ters be made for some use, and I’m formed for the 
wilderness; if ye love me, let me go where my soul 
craves to be ag’in.” 

The appeal was decisive, and not another word 
of entreaty for him to remain was then uttered; 
but Elizabeth bent her head to her bosom and 
wept, while Oliver dashed away the tears from his 
eyes; and, with hands that almost refused to per- 
form their office, he produced his pocket-book 
and extended a parcel of banknotes to the hunter. 


THE PIONEERS 


253 


“Take these,” he said; “at least take these; 
hide them about your person, and in the hour of 
need they will do you good service.” 

The old man took the notes and examined them 
with a curious eye. 

“This, then, is some of the new-fashioned money 
that they’ve been making at Albany, out of paper! 
It can’t be worth much to they that hasn’t laming! 
No, no, lad; take back the stuff; if. will do me no 
sarvice. I took kear to get all the powder I could 
carry, and they say lead grows where I’m going. 
It is n’t even fit for wads, seeing that I use none but 
leather! And now, lady, let an old man kiss your 
hand, and wish God’s choicest blessings on you 
and your’n. 

“Trust in God, lady, and in your honorable hus- 
band, and the thoughts for an old man like me 
can never be long nor bitter. I pray that the Lord 
will keep you in mind — the Lord that lives in clear- 
ings as well as in the wilderness — and bless you, 
and all that belong to you, from this time till the 
great day when the whites shall meet the redskins 
in judgment, and justice shall be the law, and not 
power. ” 

Elizabeth raised her head and offered her color- 
less cheek to his salute, when he lifted his cap and 
touched it respectfully. His hand was grasped 
with convulsive fervor by the youth, who continued 
silent. The hunter prepared himself for his jour- 
ney, drawing his belt tighter. Once or twice he 
essayed to speak, but a rising in his throat pre- 
vented it. At length he shouldered his rifle, and 


254 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


cried, with a clear huntsman’s call that echoed 
through the woods: 

“He-e-e-re! he-e-e-re! pups — away dogs, away 
— ye’ll be footsore afore ye see the ind of the 
journey!” 

The hounds leaped from the earth at this cry, 
and scenting around the graves and the silent pair, 
as if conscious of their own destination, they fol- 
lowed humbly at the heels of their master. A 
short pause succeeded, during which even Oliver 
hid his face. When the pride of manhood, how- 
ever, had suppressed the feelings of nature, he 
turned to renew his entreaties, but saw that the 
cemetery was occupied only by himself and his 
wife. 

“He is gone!” cried Oliver. 

Elizabeth raised her face and saw the old hunter 
standing looking back for a moment on the verge 
of the wood. As he caught their glances he drew 
his hard hand hastily across his eyes again, waved 
it on high for an adieu, and uttering a forced cry 
to his dogs, who were crouching at his feet, he 
entered the forest. 

This was the last that they ever saw of the 
Leatherstocking, whose rapid movements eluded 
the pursuit which Judge Temple both ordered and 
conducted. He had gone far toward the setting 
sun — the foremost in that band of pioneers who 
opened the way for the march of the nation across 
the continent. 


THE PRAIRIE 


A TALE OF THE WEST. 

I SHMAEL BUSH was a squatter. That was, 
years ago, a roving person who moved with 
his family and his belongings from place to 
place over the plains and prairies west of the 
Mississippi River, settling for a longer or shorter 
time wherever it suited his fancy or promised a 
fair living. Then, when tired or dissatisfied with 
results, he would pull up stakes, load his great 
wagons, and go farther west, hunting for a new 
camping-ground. 

Ishmael was a big man, almost a giant in size 
and strength. He had a wife, Esther, as strong 
and rough as he, and six great sons and two 
daughters. With him also traveled his wife’s 
brother, Abram White, a slouching, evil-faced, 
surly man, and a young and pretty girl who called 
Ishmael her uncle, and whose name was Ellen 
Wade. A funny, little, scientific man, hunting 
specimens, also was of the party. His name was 
Dr. Bat. 

In the sunset light of an autumn day, as these 
prairie travelers were climbing a swelling rise of 
land, selecting a good camping-place for the night, 
they met an old, old man, dressed like one of the 
hunters of the prairie-land. He was a trapper. 
( 2 5 5 ) 


256 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


His name was Nathaniel Bumpo, and he had had 
a long and adventurous life, living among Indians, 
moving westward as civilization followed after 
him, from the Hudson to the Ohio, from the Ohio 
to the Mississippi, until now, in his old age, he 
sought a living on the swelling prairie plains, seeing 
few white men, and preferring to live alone, a 
trapper along the western rivers. 

The old man met the emigrants, or squatters, 
and showed them a place to camp; but Ishmael 
was suspicious, and did not like to have the old 
trapper stay around. Still, he gave him a surly 
sort of thanks, and invited him to stay with them 
all night if he cared to do so. But the trapper 
declined the invitation, and walked away, after the 
emigrants had chopped down trees on the bank of 
a stream, for the double purpose of allowing their 
cattle to browse upon the tops and of using the 
trunks and large branches to form a slight and 
irregular defense, and otherwise settled themselves 
in camp. 

But that very night some of the wandering and 
warlike Indians of the prairies, called the Dacotahs 
or Tetons, came upon the traces of Ishmael’s 
journey, and followed the trail to the camp. 

Then the chief of the tribe, whose name was 
Mahtoree, proceeded carefully and silently to 
crawl toward the camp, hoping to escape the 
notice of the sentinels who he knew would be on 
guard, and spy into the camp, to see if there was 
anything there to make it worth his while to sur- 
prise and raid the camp of the squatters. 


THE PRAIRIE 


257 

Dragging himself, inch by inch, through the long 
grass of the prairie, he came suddenly upon the 
sentinel. It was one of Ishmael’s sons, named 
Asa; but he was asleep. Overcome by the march 
and work of the day, he had found himself too 
weary to keep awake, and thus the chief surprised 
him. 

When certain that he was undiscovered, the 
Dacotah raised his person, and, bending forward, 
he moved his dark visage above the face of the 
sleeper in that sort of wanton and subtle manner 
with which the reptile is seen to play about its 
victim before it strikes. Satisfied at length, not 
only of the condition but of the character of the 
stranger, Mahtoree was in the act of withdrawing 
his head, when a slight movement of the sleeper 
showed the signs of awakening. The savage 
seized the knife which hung at his girdle, and in an 
instant it was poised above the breast of the young 
emigrant. Then, changing his purpose with an 
action as rapid as his own flashing thoughts, he 
sank back behind the trunk of the fallen tree 
against which the other reclined, and lay in its 
shadow, as dark, as motionless, and apparently as 
insensible as the wood itself. 

He restrained his first impulse, which was to 
kill the young sentinel; and instead, took the op- 
portunity of stealthily going through the entire 
camp and looking carefully at each person whom 
he found asleep. He even lifted the curtains of a 
tent, which seemed more carefully guarded than 
the rest of the camp. Whatever or whoever he 


17 


258 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


saw within, the light made his eyes glare with a 
desire to obtain the treasure. After a time, he 
went to another part of the camp where the horses 
and other animals were tied together. 

Turning from the line of his former route, the 
Dacotah dragged himself directly toward the 
margin of the thicket. 

As soon as he found himself among the beasts 
of burden, his delight was extreme, and it was with 
difficulty that he restrained the customary ejacula- 
tions of pleasure that were more than once on the 
point of bursting from his lips. Here he lost sight 
of the hazards by which he had gained access to his 
dangerous position; and the watchfulness of the 
wary and long-practised warrior was for the 
moment forgotten in the exultation of the savage. 

Meantime the old trapper, Natty Bumpo, and a 
wandering bee-hunter named Paul Hover, had fallen 
into the power of the Indians and been captured. 

Both knew of the encampment of Ishmael Bush, 
and when suddenly a long shrill yell rent the air, 
and was instantly echoed from the surrounding 
waste, as if a thousand demons opened their 
throats in common at the summons, Weucha, one 
of the Indian guards of the white prisoners, uttered 
a cry of exultation. 

“Now!” shouted Paul, unable to control his 
impatience any longer, “now, old Ishmael, is the 
time to show the native blood of Kentucky! Fire 
low, boys — level into the swales, for the redskins 
are settling to the very earth!” 

His voice was, however, lost, or rather unheeded, 


THE PRAIRIE 


259 


in the midst of the shrieks, shouts, and yells that 
were, by this time, bursting from fifty mouths on 
every side of him. 

In the midst of this tumultuous disorder a rush- 
ing sound was heard, similar to that which might 
be expected to precede the passage of a flight of 
buffaloes, and then came the flocks and cattle of 
Ishmael, in one confused and frightened drove. 

“They have robbed the squatter of his beasts !” 
said the attentive trapper. “The reptiles have left 
him as hoofless as a beaver \” He was yet speak- 
ing, when the whole body of the terrified animals 
ascended the little elevation and swept by the place 
where he stood, followed by a band of dusky 
and demon-like figures, who pressed madly on 
their rear. 

The impulse was felt by the Teton horses, long 
accustomed to sympathize in the untrained passions 
of their owners, and it was with difficulty that the 
keepers were enabled to restrain their impatience. 
At this moment, when all eyes were directed to the 
passing whirlwind of men and beasts, the trapper 
caught the knife from the hands of his inattentive 
keeper, with a power that his age would have 
seemed to contradict, and, at a single blow, severed 
the thong of hide which connected the whole drove. 
The wild animals snorted with joy and terror, 
and, tearing the earth with their heels, they dashed 
away into the broad prairies in a dozen different 
directions. 

Weucha turned upon his assailant with the 
ferocity and agility of a tiger. He felt for the wea- 


26 o leatherstocking tales 


pon of which he had been so suddenly deprived, 
fumbled unsuccessfully for the handle of his toma- 
hawk, and then, breaking away, joined in the swift 
pursuit. The trapper had continued calmly facing 
his foe during the instant of suspense that suc- 
ceeded his hardy act, and now that Weucha was 
seen following his companions, he pointed after 
the dark train, saying, with his deep and nearly 
inaudible laugh: 

“Red natur’ is red natur’, let it show itself on 
a prairie or in a forest. There goes the Teton after 
his horses as if he thought two legs as good as four 
in such a race! And yet the imps will have every 
hoof of them afore the day sets in, because its 
reason ag’in instinct. Well, the traveler may just 
make his pitch where he is; he has plenty of water, 
though natur’ has cheated him of the pleasure of 
stripping the ’arth of its lawful trees. He has seen 
the last of his four-footed creatures, or I am but 
little skilled in Sioux cunning.” 

“The family is stirring,” said Paul. “What 
think you, old trapper ? How long may it be 
before these Tetons, as you call them, will be 
coming for the rest of old Ishmael’s goods and 
chattels ?” 

“No fear of them,” returned the old man, 
laughing in his own peculiar and silent manner; 
“I warrant me the rascals will be scampering after 
their beasts these six hours yet. Hist! crouch 
again into the grass, down with ye both; as I’m a 
miserable piece of clay, I heard the clicking of a 
gun-lock!” 


THE PRAIRIE 


261 

The trapper did not allow his companion time to 
hesitate, but, dragging Paul after him, he nearly 
buried his own person in the fog of the prairie 
while he was speaking. It was fortunate that the 
senses of the aged hunter remained so acute; and 
that he had lost none of his readiness of action. 
The two men were scarcely bowed to the ground 
when their ears were saluted with the well-known, 
sharp, short report of the western rifle, and in- 
stantly the whizzing of the ragged lead was heard, 
buzzing within dangerous proximity of their heads. 

“Well done, young chips! well done, old block !” 
whispered Paul, whose spirits no danger nor situa- 
tion could entirely depress. “As pretty a volley 
as one would wish to hear on the wrong end of a 
rifle! What d’ye say, trapper ? Shall I give ’em 
as good as they send ?” 

“Give them nothing but fair words,” returned 
the other hastily, “or you are lost.” 

“I’m not certain it would much mend the matter 
if I were to speak with my tongue instead of the 
piece,” said Paul, in a tone half jocular, half bitter. 

Several shots came in quick succession, each 
sending its dangerous messenger still nearer than 
the preceding discharge. 

“This must end,” said the trapper, rising with 
the dignity of one bent only on the importance of 
his object. “I know not what need ye may have, 
young man, to fear those who come hither, but 
something must be done to save your life. 

Without waiting for any reply the trapper walked 
boldly down the declivity in his front, taking the 


262 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


direction of the encampment, neither quickening 
his pace nor suffering it to be retarded by fear. 
The light of the moon fell brighter for a moment 
on his tall, gaunt form, and served to warn the 
emigrants of his approach. Indifferent, however, 
to this unfavorable circumstance, he held his way 
silently and steadily toward the copse, until a 
threatening voice met him with the challenge of: 

“Who comes — friend or foe ?” 

“Friend,” was the reply: “one who has lived 
too long to disturb the close of life with quarrels.” 

“ But not so long as to forget the tricks of his 
youth,” said Ishmael, rearing his huge frame 
from beneath the slight covering of a low bush, and 
meeting the trapper face to face. “Old man, you 
have brought this tribe of red rascals upon us, and 
to-morrow you will be sharing the booty. ” 

“What have you lost?” calmly demanded the 
trapper. 

“ Eight as good mares as ever traveled in gears, 
besides a foal that is worth thirty of the brightest 
Mexicans. And now, stranger,” he added, drop- 
ping the butt of his rifle on the hard earth, with a 
violence and a clatter that would have intimidated 
one less firm than the man he addressed, “how 
many of these creatures may fall to your lot ?” 

“Horses have I never craved, nor even used; 
though few have journeyed over more of the wide 
lands of America than myself, old and feeble as I 
seem. As for woolen covering and cow’s milk, 
I covet no such womanly fashions. The beasts 
of the field give me food and raiment. No; I 


THE PRAIRIE 263 

crave no cloth better than the skin of a deer, nor 
any meat richer than its flesh. ,, 

The squatter looked at the old man uncertainly. 

“That is no fair answer,” he said. “It is, in 
my judgment, too lawyer-like for a straightforward, 
fair-weather and foul-weather hunter.” 

“I claim to be no better than a trapper,” the 
other meekly answered. 

“Hunter or trapper — there is little difference. 
I have come, old man, into these districts because 
I found the law sitting too tight upon me, but I 
didn’t come to be robbed of my plunder, and then 
to say thank’ee to the man who did it.” 

“He who ventures far into the prairie must abide 
by the ways of its owners. ” 

“Owners!” echoed the squatter. “I am as right- 
ful an owner of the land I stand on as any governor 
of the States. Can you tell me, stranger, where the 
law or the reason is to be found which says that one 
man shall have a section, or a town, or perhaps a 
county, to his use, and another have to beg for earth 
to make his grave in ? This is not nature, and I 
deny that it is law. ” 

“I can not say that you are wrong,” returned 
the trapper, whose opinions on this important topic, 
though drawn from very different reasons, were in 
singular accordance with those of his companion, 
“and I have often thought and said as much. But 
your beasts are stolen by them who claim to be 
masters of all they find in the deserts. ” 

“They had better not dispute that matter with 
a man who knows better/’ said the other in a 


264 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


threatening voice. “ I call myself a fair trader, and 
one who gives to his chaps as good as he receives. 
You saw the Indians ?” 

“I did; they held me a prisoner while they stole 
into your camp.” 

“It would have been more like a white man and 
a Christian to let me have known as much in better 
season,” retorted Ishmael, casting another ominous 
sidelong glance at the trapper, as if still meditating 
evil. But what is done is done, and can not be 
mended by. words. Come out of your ambush, 
boys; here is no one but the old man; he has eaten 
of my bread and should be our friend, though there 
is such good reason to suspect him of lodging with 
our enemies.” 

The trapper made no reply to the harsh suspi- 
cion which the other did not hesitate to utter. The 
summons of the squatter brought an immediate 
increase to their party. Four or five of his sons 
made their appearance from beneath as many 
covers, where they had been posted. * As each 
man approached and dropped his rifle into the 
hollow of his arm, he cast an indolent but inquiring 
glance at the stranger, though none of them ex- 
pressed the least curiosity to know whence he had 
come or why he was there. This forbearance, 
however, proceeded only in part from their laziness 
and indolence. Indeed, the eldest, Asa, — the 
sleeping sentinel, by whose error Mahtoree had 
profited, — claimed that he had seen some one with 
the trapper, and asked who it was. 

“If you had seen the Tetons racing across the 


THE PRAIRIE 


265 


prairies like so many black-looking evil ones on 
the heels of your cattle, my friend,” said the trap- 
per “it would have been an easy matter to have 
fancied them a thousand.” 

“Come, stranger,” said the emigrant, his rugged 
nature somewhat softened; “it is of small account 
what may be the groundwork of the disturbance 
when it’s a Christian ag’in a savage. We shall 
hear more of this horse-stealing to-morrow; to- 
night we can do no wiser or safer thing than to 
sleep.” 

So saying, Ishmael deliberately led the way back 
toward his rifled encampment, and ushered the 
man whose life a few minutes before had been in 
real danger from his anger into the presence of his 
family. Here, with a very few words of explana- 
tion, he made his wife acquainted with the state 
of things on the prairie, and announced his own 
determination to repay himself for his broken rest 
by devoting the remainder of the night to sleep. 

The trapper gave his ready assent to the measure, 
and adjusted his gaunt form on the pile of brush 
that was offered him with as much composure as a 
sovereign could resign himself to sleep in the secu- 
rity of his capital and surrounded by his armed 
protectors. Paul Hover, he saw, was not about. 
The bee-hunter, he decided, had observed the 
caution of keeping himself out of view; and, satis- 
fied as to this, he slept, though with the peculiar 
watchfulness of one long accustomed to vigilance, 
even in the hours of deepest night. 

In the morning the old trapper, in reply to a 


266 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


direct question from Ishmael, advised him to re- 
move his camp to some safer point. 

“A rifle would send a bullet from these hills into 
your very sleeping-cabins; nay, arrows from the 
thicket in your rear would keep you all burrowed, 
like so many prairie dogs; it wouldn’t do, it 
wouldn’t do. Three long miles from this spot is a 
place where, as I have often thought in passing 
across the desert, a stand might be made for days 
and weeks together, if there were hearts and hands 
ready to engage in the bloody work. ” 

Another low, deriding laugh passed among the 
young men, announcing, in a manner sufficiently 
evident, their readiness to undertake a task even 
more difficult. The squatter himself eagerly seized 
the hint. A few direct inquiries served to obtain 
the little additional information that was necessary, 
in order to make the contemplated movement, and 
then Ishmael, who was, in times of need, as terri- 
fically energetic as he was sluggish in common, 
set about effecting his object without delay. 

Nothwithstanding the industry and zeal of all 
engaged, the task was one of great labor and diffi- 
culty. The loaded vehicles were to be drawn by 
hand across a wide distance of plain, without track 
or guide of any sort except that which the trapper 
had furnished. But all bore a hand, and at last 
the camp was ready to move on. The trap- 
per, with the watchfulness of the man who 
lives apart from his fellow-men, observed every- 
thing closely. His attention, however, was es- 
pecially drawn toward the covered hut or tent 


THE PRAIRIE 


267 


which the Indian, Mahtoree, had examined. It 
seemed to conceal something mysterious, and the 
old man had almost got his head within the drapery 
when he was discovered by the surly and evil- 
faced Abram White. Abram bluntly exclaimed: 

“I am a fool, as you often say! But look for 
yourself. If that man is not an enemy I will call 
myself an Indian, and go hunt with the Sioux.” 

The cloud, as it is about to discharge the subtle 
lightning, is not more dark nor threatening than 
the look with which Ishmael greeted the intruder. 
He turned his head on every side of him, as if seek- 
ing some engine sufficiently terrible to destroy 
the offending trapper at a blow; and then, possibly 
recollecting the further occasion he might have for 
his counsel, he forced himself to say, with an 
appearance of moderation that nearly choked him: 

“Stranger, I did believe this prying into the 
concerns of others was the business of women in the 
towns and settlements, and not the manner in 
which men who are used to live where each has 
room for himself deal with the secrets of their 
neighbors. To what lawyer or sheriff do you 
calculate to sell your news ?” 

“ I hold but little discourse, except with One, and 
then chiefly of my own affairs,” returned the old 
man, without the least alarm, and pointing impos- 
ingly upward : “ a Judge, and Judge of all. Little 
does He need knowledge from my hands, and but 
little will your wish to keep anything secret from 
Him profit you, even in this desert.” 

The mounting tempers of his untrained listeners 


268 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


were rebuked by the simple, solemn manner of the 
trapper. Ishmael stood sullen and thoughtful, 
while his companion stole a furtive and involuntary 
glance at the placid sky, which spread so wide and 
blue above his head, as if he expected to see the 
Almighty eye itself beaming from the heavenly 
vault. The hesitation of the squatter was of short 
duration. 

“It would be showing more of the kindness of a 
friend and comrade/’ Ishmael returned, in a tone 
sufficiently sullen to betray his humor, although it 
was no longer threatening, “had your shoulder 
been put to the wheel of one of yonder wagons, 
instead of edging itself in here, where none are 
wanted but such as are invited.” 

“I can put the little strength that is left me,” re- 
turned the trapper, “to this, as well as to another of 
your loads.” 

“Do you take us for boys ?” exclaimed Ishmael, 
laughing, half in ferocity and half in derision, 
applying his powerful strength at the same time to 
the little vehicle, which rolled over the grass with 
as much seeming facility as if it were drawn by its 
usual team. 

The trapper paused and followed the departing 
wagon with his eye, marveling greatly as to the 
nature of its concealed contents, until it had also 
gained the summit of the eminence, and in its turn 
disappeared behind the swell of the land. 

Th squatters bent themselves faithfully to their 
task, and in a short time were entrenched in a kind 
of natural fortress. It was a solitary and ragged 


THE PRAIRIE 


269 


rock which rose on the margin of a little water- 
course. The few trees which grew about it were 
soon cut down, and their trunks, with the help of 
rocks gathered from the sides of the hill, were 
formed into rude and not very strong defenses at 
the points which offered the fewest natural ob- 
stacles to attack. On the top of the rock was 
perched the tentwhich has been alreadymentioned, 
and while one of the party, frequently one of the 
women, kept continual watch on this height, the 
men spent their time for several days in idleness, 
their unruly tempers and the mystery which sur- 
rounded the tent giving rise to frequent quarrels. 

After the squatters left him, the trapper re- 
mained for some time gazing after them. He 
continued muttering occasionally to himself until 
a rustling in the low bushes, which still grew for 
some distance along the swale that formed the 
thicket on which the camp of Ishmael had rested, 
caught his ear, and cut short his meditation. The 
habits of so many years spent in the wilderness 
caused the old man to bring his rifle to a poise with 
something like the activity and promptitude of his 
youth; but, suddenly recovering his recollection, 
he dropped it into the hollow of his arm again, and 
resumed his air of melancholy resignation. 

“Come forth, come forth he said aloud. “Be 
ye bird or be ye beast, ye are safe from these old 
hands. I have eaten and I have drunk; why 
should I take life, when my wants call for no sacri- 
fice. Come forth, come forth ! You are safe from 
harm at these weak hands.” 


270 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“ Thank you for the good word, old trapper !” 
cried Paul Hover, springing actively forward from 
his place of concealment. “ There was an air 
about you, when you threw forward the muzzle 
of your piece, that I did not like, for it seemed to 
say that you were master of all the rest of the 
motions. ” 

“ You are right, you are right!” cried the trapper, 
laughing with inward self-complacency at the 
recollection of his former skill. “The day has 
been when few men knew the virtues of a long 
rifle, like this I carry, better than myself, old and 
useless as I now seem. You are right, young man; 
and the time was when it was dangerous to move 
a leaf within ear-shot of my stand, or,” he added, 
dropping his voice and looking serious, “for a red 
Mingo to show an eyeball from his ambushment.” 

In the woods Paul and the trapper met another 
wanderer. He was an officer in the United States 
army, who was also in search of Ishmael Bush 
and his camp, for in that camp he was confident 
was a treasure which he had been tracing and 
tracking for months. 

For Captain Middleton’s beautiful young wife, 
a Mexican lady, had been kidnapped or stolen by 
Abram White, the evil-faced brother-in-law of 
Ishmael Bush, to be sold as a slave or held for a 
ransom, and it was this prize that was kept in the 
tent-like hut which the Dacotah chief had in- 
spected, that had aroused the trapper’s curiosity, 
and well-nigh brought upon him the wrath and 
vengeance of Ishmael Bush. 


THE PRAIRIE 


271 


At once a scheme of rescue was decided upon by 
the trapper, Paul Hover, Captain Middleton, and 
even funny little Dr. Bat, who did not wish to 
associate with kidnappers. 

Choosing a time when all the men were absent, 
hunting, or trying to ascertain the whereabouts of 
the Indians, they approached the fortress, and 
although the daughters of Ishmael Bush made a 
fierce resistance, rolling down stones upon the 
attacking party, and bravely engaging in a hand- 
to-hand conflict with their brawny enemies, they 
succeeded in rescuing the young wife of the cap- 
tain, while Ellen Wade, who hated her life in the 
camp and was in love with Paul, the bee-hunter, 
also escaped. 

But meantime Asa, the eldest son of Ishmael 
Bush, had been killed on the prairie. His father 
was certain this had been done by the old trapper, 
in his attempt to get Inez from the camp, and 
Ishmael vowed revenge. 

Falling in with the hostile party of Sioux or 
Dacotahs, the trapper and his party were com- 
pelled to accompany them on a second attack on 
the Fort, during which they managed to escape, 
mounted on horses which they did not hesitate to 
take. At last they reached a place of comparative 
safety, and disposed themselves to much-needed 
rest. The sleep of the fugitives lasted for several 
hours. The trapper was the first to shake off its 
influence, as he had been the last to seek its re- 
freshment. Rising just as the gray light of day 
began to brighten the east, he summoned his com- 


272 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


panions from their warm lairs and pointed out the 
necessity of their being once more on the alert. 
While Middleton attended to the arrangements 
necessary to the comfort of Inez and Ellen in the 
long and painful journey which lay before them, 
the old man and Paul prepared the meal, which the 
former had advised them to take before they pro- 
ceeded to horse. The little group was soon seated 
about a repast which, though it might want the 
elegancies to which the bride of Middleton had 
been accustomed, was not deficient in the more 
important requisites of savory taste and strength- 
ening food. 

“When we get lower into the hunting-grounds 
of the Pawnees,” said the trapper, laying a morsel 
of delicate venison before Inez, on a little trencher 
neatly made of horn and expressly for his own use, 
“we shall find the buffaloes fatter and sweeter, the 
deer in more abundance, and all the gifts of the 
Lord abounding to satisfy our wants. Perhaps 
we may even strike a beaver and get a morsel from 
his tail* by way of a rare mouthful. ” 

“What course do you mean to pursue when you 
have once thrown these bloodhounds from the 
chase?” demanded Middleton. 

“If I might advise,” said Paul, “it would be to 
strike a water course, and get upon its downward 
current as soon as may be. Give me a cotton- 
wood, and I will turn you out a canoe that shall 
carry us all, in perhaps the work of a day and a night. 

* The American hunters consider the tail of the beaver the 
most nourishing of all food. 


THE PRAIRIE 


273 


Ellen is lively enough, but then she is no great 
race-rider; and it would be far more comfortable 
to boat six or eight hundred miles than to go loping 
along like so many elks measuring the prairies; 
besides, water leaves no trail.” 

“I will not swear to that,” returned the trapper; 
“ I have often thought the eyes of a redskin would 
find a trail in air.” 

“See, Middleton,” exclaimed Inez, in a sudden 
burst of youthful pleasure, that caused her for a 
moment to forget her situation, “how lovely is that 
sky; surely it contains a promise of happier times!” 

“It is glorious!” returned her husband. “Glo- 
rious and heavenly is that streak of vivid red, and 
here is a still brighter crimson; rarely have I seen a 
richer rising of the sun.” 

“Rising of the sun!” slowly repeated the old 
man, lifting his tall person from its seat with a 
deliberate and abstracted air, while he kept his eye 
riveted on the changing and certainly beautiful 
tints that were beaming on the vault of heaven. 
“Rising of the sun! I like not such risings of the 
sun. Ah’s me! the imps have circumvented us 
with a vengeance. The prairie is on fire!” 

“God in heaven protect us!” cried Middleton, 
catching Inez to his bosom, instantly realizing the 
greatness of their danger. “There is no time to 
lose, old man; each instant is a day; let us fly.” 

“Whither?” demanded the trapper, motioning 
him with calmness and dignity to arrest his steps. 
“In this wilderness of grass and reeds you are like 
a vessel in the broad lakes without a compass. A 


18 


274 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

single step on the wrong course might prove the 
destruction of us all. It is seldom danger is so 
pressing that there is not time enough for reason to 
do its work, young officer; therefore let us await its 
biddings.” 

“For my own part,” said Paul Hover, looking 
about him with no equivocal expression of concern, 
“old trapper, I agree with the captain, and say 
mount and run.” 

“Ye are wrong — ye are wrong; man is not a 
beast to follow the gift of instinct and to snuff up 
his knowledge by a taint in the air or a rumbling in 
the sound, but he must see, and reason, and then 
conclude. So follow me a little to the left, where 
there is a rise in the ground, whence we may make 
our observations.” 

The old man waved his hand with authority, and 
led the way without further speech to the spot he 
had indicated, followed by the whole of his alarmed 
companions. Here a few minutes were lost in 
breaking down the tops of the surrounding herbage 
which, notwithstanding the advantage of their 
position, rose even above the heads of Middleton 
and Paul, and in obtaining a look-out that might 
command a view of the surrounding sea of fire. 

The frightful prospect added nothing to the 
hopes of those who had so fearful a stake in the 
result. Although the day was beginning to dawn, 
the vivid colors of the sky continued to deepen. 
Bright flashes of flame shot up here and there along 
the margin of the waste. The anxiety on the rigid 
features of the trapper sensibly deepened as he 


THE PRAIRIE 


275 


leisurely traced these evidences of a general fire, 
which spread in a broad belt about their place of 
refuge, until he had encircled the horizon. 

“This is terrible !” exclaimed Middleton, folding 
the trembling Inez to his heart. “At such a time 
as this, and in such a manner !” 

“The gates of heaven are open to all who truly 
believe,” murmured the pious young wife in his 
bosom. 

The old man, who had continued during the 
whole scene like one much at a loss how to proceed, 
though also like one who was rather perplexed than 
alarmed, suddenly assumed a decided air, as if 
he no longer doubted on the course it was most ad- 
visable to pursue. 

“It is time to be doing,” he said, “it is time to 
leave off moanings and to be doing.” 

“You have come to your recollections too late, 
miserable old man,” cried Middleton; “the flames 
are within a quarter of a mile of us, and the wind 
is bringing them down in this quarter with dreadful 
rapidity.” 

“Anan! the flames! I care but little for the 
flames. If I only knew how to circumvent the 
cunning of the Dacotahs as I know how to cheat 
the fire of its prey there would be nothing needed 
but thanks to the Lord for our deliverance. Come, 
lads, come: ’tis time to be doing now, and to cease 
talking; for yonder curling flame is truly coming 
on like a trotting moose. Put hands upon this 
short and withered grass where we stand, and lay 
bare the ’arth.” 


276 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

The captain instantly began to imitate the in- 
dustry of Paul, who was tearing the decayed 
herbage from the ground in a sort of desperate 
compliance with the trapper’s direction. Even 
Ellen lent her hands to the labor, nor it was long 
before Inez was seen similarly employed, though 
none amongst them knew why or wherefore. A 
very few moments sufficed to lay bare a spot of 
some twenty feet in diameter. Into one edge of 
this little area the trapper brought the females, 
directing Middleton and Paul to cover their light 
dresses with the blankets of the party. So soon as 
this precaution was observed, the old man ap- 
proached the opposite margin of the grass, which 
still surrounded them in a tall and dangerous circle, 
and selecting a handful of the driest of the herbage, 
he placed it over the pan of his rifle. The light 
leaves kindled at the flash. Then he placed the 
little flame in a bed of the standing fog, and with- 
drawing from the spot to the center of the ring he 
patiently awaited the result. 

The fire seized with eagerness upon its new fuel, 
and in a moment forked flames were gliding among 
the grass, 

“Now,” said the old man, holding up a finger 
and laughing in his peculiarly silent manner, “you 
shall see fire fight fire! Ah’s me! many is the time 
I have burnt a smooty path from wanton laziness 
to pick my way across a tangled bottom. ” 

“But is this not fatal ?” cried the amazed Mid- 
dleton; “are you not bringing the enemy nigher to 
us instead of avoiding it ?” 




i mi 

Ml 

1 



Fighting Fire with Fire 







































































































































THE PRAIRIE 


277 

“ Do you scorch so easily ? But we shall live to 
see; we shall all live to see.” 

The experience of the trapper was in the right. 
As the fire gained strength and heat, it began to 
spread on three sides, dying of itself on the fourth 
for want of food. As it increased, and the sullen 
roaring announced its power, it cleared everything 
before it, leaving the black and smoking soil far 
more naked than if the scythe had swept the 
place. 

The situation of the fugitives would have still 
been hazardous had not the area enlarged as the 
flame encircled them. But by advancing to the 
spot where the trapper had kindled the grass, they 
avoided the heat, and in a very few moments the 
flames began to recede in every quarter, leaving 
them enveloped in a cloud of smoke, but perfectly 
safe from the torrent of fire that was still furiously 
rolling onward. 

“Now look off yonder to the east,” said the old 
man, as he began to lead the way across the murky 
and still smoking plain; “little fear of cold feet in 
journeying such a path as this: but look you off to 
the east, and if you see a sheet of shining white, 
glistening like a plate of beaten silver through the 
openings of the smoke, why, that is water. A 
noble stream is running thereaway, and I thought 
I got a glimpse of it a while since; but other 
thoughts came, and I lost it. It is a broad and 
swift river, such as the Lord has made many of its 
fellows in this desert. Now watch, all of you, with 
open eyes, for that strip of glittering water; we 


278 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


shall not be safe until it is flowing between our 
trail and these sharp-sighted Dacotahs. ” 

This latter declaration was enough to insure a 
vigilant lookout for the desired stream on the part 
of all the trapper’s followers. With this object in 
view, the party proceeded in profound silence, the 
old man having warned them of the necessity of 
caution as they entered the clouds of smoke, which 
were rolling like masses of fog along the plain, 
more particularly over those spots where the fire 
had met with occasional pools of stagnant water. 

Finally they emerged from the area which had 
been ravaged by fire, and as they drew near a mass 
of thicket, Hector, the trapper’s old hound, showed 
signs of uneasiness. “This is foolish, Hector,” 
said the old trapper, “more like an untamed pup 
than a sensible hound; one who has got his educa- 
tion by hard experience, and not by nosing over 
the trails of other dogs. Well, friend,” he said to 
Dr. Bat, “you who can do so much, are you equal 
to looking into the thicket; or must I go in myself?” 

The doctor assumed an air of resolution, and 
without further words proceeded to do as desired. 
The dogs were so far restrained by the remon- 
strances of the old man as to confine their noise to 
low but often-repeated whinings. When they saw 
the naturalist advance, however, the pup broke 
through all restraint and made a swift circuit 
around his person, scenting the earth as he pro- 
ceeded; and, returning to his companion, he 
howled aloud. 

“The squatter and his brood have left a strong 


THE PRAIRIE 


279 


scent on the earth/’ said the old man, watching as 
he spoke for some signal ffom his learned pioneer 
to follow; “I hope yonder school-bred man knows 
enough to remember the errand on which I have 
sent him.” 

Dr. Bat had already disappeared in the bushes, 
and the trapper was beginning to show additional 
evidences of impatience, when the person of the 
former was seen retiring from the thicket back- 
ward, with his face fastened on the place he had 
just left, as if his look was bound in the thraldom 
of some charm. He had found what he took for 
some strange animal, but it proved to be an Indian 
who was hiding. 

"Is the animal human ?” demanded the doctor, 
"of th e genus homo?* I had fancied it a nonde- 
script.” 

"It’s as human, and as mortal, too, as a warrior 
of these prairies is ever known to be. It will be 
well to speak to the imp, and to let him know he 
deals with men whose beards are grown. Come 
forth from your cover, friend,” he continued, in 
the language of the extensive tribes of the Daco- 
tahs; "there is room on the prairie for another 
warrior.” 

The eyes appeared to glare more fiercely than 
before; but the mass which, according to the trap- 
per’s opinion, was neither more nor less than a 
human head, shorn, as usual among the warriors 
of the West, of its hair, still continued without 
motion or any other sign of life, 

* Latin for “ the human race.” 


28 o leatherstocking tales 


The trapper very deliberately examined the 
priming of his rifle, taking care to make as great a 
parade as possible of his hostile intentions, in going 
through the necessary movements with the wea- 
pon. When he thought the stranger began to 
apprehend some danger, he very deliberately pre- 
sented the piece, and called aloud: 

“Now, friend, I am all for peace, or all for war, 
as you may say. No! well, it is no man, as the 
wiser one here says, and there can be no harm in 
just firing into a bunch of leaves.” 

The muzzle of the rifle fell as he concluded, and 
the weapon was gradually settling into a steady, 
and what would easily have proved a fatal, aim, 
when a tall Indian sprang from beneath that bed 
of leaves and brush which he had collected about 
his person at the approach of the party, and stood 
upright, uttering the exclamation: 

“Wagh!” 

The trapper who had intended no violence, 
dropped his rifle again, and laughing at the success 
of his experiment, with great seeming self-satis- 
faction, he drew the astounded gaze of the natu- 
ralist from the person of the savage to himself by 
saying: 

“The imps will lie for hours, like sleeping alli- 
gators, brooding their deviltries, in dreams and 
other craftiness, until such time as they see some 
real danger is at hand, and then they look to them- 
selves the same as other mortals. But this is a 
scouter in his war-paint. There should be more of 
his tribe at no great distance. Let us draw the 


THE PRAIRIE 


281 

truth out of him; for an unlucky war party may 
prove more dangerous to us than a visit from the 
whole family of the squatter.” 

The old man cast a keen eye on every side of 
him, to ascertain the important particular whether 
the stranger was supported by any associates, and 
then making the usual signs of peace, by exhibiting 
the palm of his naked hand, he boldly advanced. 
In the meantime, the Indian betrayed no evidence 
of uneasiness. He suffered the trapper to draw 
nigh, maintaining by his own mien and attitude a 
striking air of dignity and fearlessness. 

The Indian in question was in every particular a 
warrior of fine stature and admirable proportions. 
As he cast aside his mask, composed of such party- 
colored leaves as he had hurriedly collected, his 
countenance appeared in all the gravity, the dig- 
nity, and, it may be added, the terror, of his 
profession. 

The outlines of his features were strikingly 
noble. The peculiar tint of the skin, which in 
itself it so well designed to aid the effect of a war- 
like expression, had received an additional aspect 
of wild ferocity from the colors of the war-paint. 

His head was, as usual, shaved to the crown, 
where a large and gallant scalp-lock seemed to 
challenge the grasp of his enemies. 

His body, notwithstanding the lateness of the 
season, was nearly naked, and the portion which 
was clad bore a vestment no warmer than a light 
robe of the finest dressed deer-skin, beautifully 
stained with the rude design of some daring ex- 


282 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


ploit, and which was carelessly worn, as if more in 
pride than from any unmanly regard to comfort. 
His leggings were of bright scarlet cloth, the only 
evidence about his person that he had held com- 
munion with the traders of the palefaces. 

But they were fearfully fringed, from the gar- 
tered knee to the bottom of the moccasin, with the 
hair of human scalps. He leaned lightly with one 
hand on a short hickory bow, while the other rather 
touched than sought supportfrom the long, delicate 
handle of an ashen lance. A quiver made of the 
cougar-skin, from which the tail of the animal de- 
pended, was slung at his back; and a shield of 
hides, quaintly decorated with anotherof his warlike 
deeds, was hung from his neck by a thong of sinews. 

As the trapper approached, this warrior main- 
tained his calm, upright attitude, discoveringneither 
an eagerness to ascertain the character of those who 
advanced upon him, nor the smallest wish to avoid 
a scrutiny in his own person. An eye that was 
darker and more shining than that of the stag was 
incessantly glancing, however, from one to another 
of the stranger party, seemingly never knowing rest 
for an instant. 

“Is my brother far from his village ?” demanded 
the old man in the Pawnee language, after examin- 
ing the paint and those other little signs by which 
a practised eye knows the tribe of the warrior he 
encounters in the American deserts. 

“It is farther to the town of the Bigknives,” was 
the laconic reply. 

“Why is a Pawnee-Loup so far from the fork of 


THE PRAIRIE 283 

his own river, without a horse to journey on, and in 
a spot empty as this ?” 

“ Can the women and children of a paleface live 
without the meat of the bison ? There was hunger 
in my lodge. ” 

“My brother is very young to be already the 
master of a lodge,” returned the trapper, looking 
steadily into the unmoved countenance of the 
youthful warrior; “but I dare say he is brave, and 
that many a chief has offered him his daughters for 
wives. But he is mistaken,” pointing to the arrow 
which was dangling from the hand that held the 
bow, “in bringing a loose and barbed arrow-head 
to kill the buffalo. Do the Pawnees wish the 
wounds they give their game to rankle ?” 

“It is good to be ready for the Sioux. Though 
not in sight, a bush may hide him.” 

“The man is a living proof of the truth of his 
words,” muttered the trapper in English, “and a 
close-jointed and gallant-looking lad he is, but 
far too young for a chief of any importance. He 
is scouting on the track of the Sioux — you may see 
it by his arrow-heads and his paint; ay, and by his 
eye, too, for redskin lets his natur’ follow the busi- 
ness he is on, be it for peace or be it for war. Quiet, 
Hector, quiet ! Have you never scented a Pawnee 
afore, pup ? Keep down, dog, keep down. My 
brother is right. The Sioux are thieves. Men of 
all colors and nations say it of them, and truly.” 

“The Sioux is a dog. When the Pawnee war- 
whoop is in their ears the whole nation howls. 

“It is true. The imps are on our trail, and I am 


284 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

glad to meet a warrior with the tomahawk in his 
hand who does not love them. Will my brother 
lead my children to his village ? If the Sioux fol- 
low on our path my young men shall help him to 
strike them.” 

The young Pawnee turned his face from one to 
another of the strangers in a keen scrutiny before 
he saw fit to answer. Then he modestly answered : 

“My father shall be welcome. The young men 
of my nation shall hunt with his sons; the chiefs 
shall hunt with the grayhead. The Pawnee girls 
will sing in the ears of his daughters.” 

“And if we meet the Sioux?” demanded the 
trapper, who wished to understand thoroughly the 
more important conditions of this new alliance. 

“The enemy of the Bigknives shall feel the blow 
of the Pawnee. ” 

“ It is well. Now let my brother and me meet in 
council, that we may not go on a crooked path, 
but that our road to his village may be like the 
flight of the pigeons.” 

The young Pawnee made a significant gesture of 
agreement, and followed the other a little apart, in 
order to be removed from all danger of interruption 
from the reckless Paul or the abstracted naturalist. 
Their conference was short, but, as it was con- 
ducted in the brief manner of the natives, it served 
to make each of the parties acquainted with all the 
necessary information of the other. When they 
rejoined their associates the old man saw fit to 
explain a portion of what had passed between them, 
as follows : 


THE PRAIRIE 


285 


“Ay, I was not mistaken/’ he said. “It is as 
I said ; this good-looking young warrior — for good- 
looking and noble-looking he is, though a little 
horrified perhaps with paint — this good-looking 
youth, tells me he is out on the scout for these very 
Sioux. His party was not strong enough to strike 
the rascals, who are down from their towns in great 
numbers to hunt the buffalo, and runners have 
gone to the Pawneee villages for aid. It would 
seem that this lad is a fearless boy, for he has been 
hanging on their skirts alone, until, like ourselves, 
he was driven to the grass for a cover. But he tells 
me more, my men, and what I am mainly sorry to 
hear, which is, that the cunning Mahtoree, instead 
of going to blows with the squatter, has become his 
friend, and that both broods, red and white, are 
on our heels, and outlying around this very plain 
to circumvent us to our destruction.” 

Assured of the truth of the Indian’s statement 
and awake to their double danger from Dacotah 
and from the squatter, the fugitives pressed on 
until they came to the banks of a river. 

This they must cross. But how ? How could 
the two girls get over ? 

“It is a matter of invention,” the old trapper 
declared. “Somehow the river will be crossed.” 
Then he turned to the Pawnee, and explained to 
him the difficulty which existed in relation to the 
women. The young warrior listened gravely, 
and throwing the buffalo skin from his shoulder, 
he immediately commenced, assisted by the oc- 
casional aid of the understanding old man, the 


286 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


preparations necessary to effect this desirable 
object. 

The hide was soon drawn into the shape of an 
umbrella top, or an inverted parachute, by thongs 
of deerskin, with which both the laborers were well 
provided. A few light sticks served to keep the 
parts from collapsing or falling in. When this 
simple and natural expedient was arranged, it was 
placed on the water, the Indian making a sign that 
it was ready to receive its freight. Both Inez and 
Ellen hesitated to trust themselves in a bark of so 
frail a construction, nor would Middleton or Paul 
consent that they should do so until each had 
assured himself by actual experiment that the ves- 
sel was capable of sustaining a load much heavier 
than it was destined to receive. Then, indeed, 
their objections were reluctantly overcome, and 
the skin was made to receive its precious burden. 

“Now leave the Pawnee to be the pilot, ,, said the 
trapper; “my hand is not so steady as it used to 
be; but he has limbs like toughened hickory.” 

The husband and lover could not well do other- 
wise, and they were fain to become deeply inter- 
ested, it is true, but passive spectators of this primi- 
tive species of ferrying. The Pawnee selected a 
beast from among the three horses with a readiness 
that proved he was far from being ignorant of the 
properties of that noble animal, and throwing 
himself upon its back, he rode into the margin of 
the river. Thrusting an end of his lance into the 
hide, he bore the light vessel up against the stream, 
and, giving his steed the rein, they pushed boldly 


THE PRAIRIE 


287 


into the current. Middleton and Paul followed, 
pressing as nigh the bark as prudence would at all 
warrant. In this manner the young warrior bore 
his precious cargo to the opposite bank in perfect 
safety, without the slightest inconvenience to the 
passengers, and with a steadiness and quickness 
which proved that both horse and rider were not 
unused to the operation. When the shore was 
gained, the young Indian undid his work, threw 
the skin over his shoulder, placed the sticks under 
his arm, and returned, without speaking, to trans- 
fer the remainder of the party in a similar manner 
to what was very justly considered the safer side 
of the river. 

“Now, friend Doctor,” said the old man, when 
he saw the Indian plunging into the river a second 
time, “do I know there is faith in yonder redskin. 
He is a good-looking, ay, and an honest-looking 
youth, but the winds of heaven are not more deceit- 
ful than these savages, when mischief has fairly 
beset them. Had the Pawnee been a Sioux, or one 
of them heartless Mingos that used to be prowling 
through the woods of York a time back — that is, 
some sixty years agone — we should have seen his 
back and not his face turned toward us. But you 
can see for yourself the boy is true. Once make a 
redskin your friend, and he is yours as long as you 
deal honestly by him.” 

So Dr. Bat and the trapper stepped into the frail 
craft, to follow their companions across. But 
even as they did so, a cry rose on the bank, and the 
brutal Dacotah warrior, Weucha, confronted them. 


288 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


The eyes of the Dacotah and those of the fugi- 
tives met. The former raised a long, loud, and 
piercing yell, in which the notes of exultation were 
fearfully blended with those of warning. In an- 
other instant the steed of the young Pawnee was 
struggling with the torrent. 

The utmost strength of the horse was needed to 
urge the fugitives beyond the flight of arrows that 
came sailing through the air at the next moment. 
The cry of Weucha had brought fifty of his com- 
rades to the shore, but fortunately, among them all 
there was not one of a rank sufficient to entitle him 
to the privilege of bearing a gun. One-half the 
stream, however, was not passed, before the form 
of Mahtoree himself was seen on its b # ank, and an 
ineffectual discharge of firearms announced the 
rage and disappointment of the chief. 

In the meantime the vessel of skin had reached 
the land, and the fugitives were once more united 
on the margin of the river. 

“Now, mount you with the tender ones, and 
ride for yonder hillock, ” said the trapper; “ beyond 
it you will find another stream, into which you 
must enter, and, turning to the sun, follow its bed 
for a mile, until you reach a high and sandy plain; 
there will I meet you. Go; mount; this Pawnee 
youth and I, and my stout friend, the physician, 
who is a desperate warrior, are men enough to 
keep the bank, seeing that show and not use is all 
that is needed.” 

Middleton and Paul saw no use in wasting their 
breath in remonstrances against this proposal. 


THE PRAIRIE 


289 

Glad to know that their rear was to be covered even 
in this imperfect manner, they hastily got their 
horses in motion, and soon disappeared on the re- 
quired route. Some twenty or thirty minutes suc- 
ceeded this movement before the Dacotahs on the 
opposite shore seemed inclined to enter on any new 
enterprise. Mahtoree was distinctly visible, in 
the midst of his warriors, issuing his commands, 
and betraying his desire for vengeance by occa- 
sionally shaking an arm in the direction of the fugi- 
tives; but no step was taken which appeared to 
threaten any further act of immediate hostility. 
At length a yell arose among the savages which 
announced the occurrence of some fresh event. 
Then Ishmael and his sluggish sons were seen in the 
distance, and soon the whole of the united force 
moved down to the very limits of the stream. The 
squatter proceeded to examine the position of his 
enemies with his usual coolness, and, as if to try the 
power of his rifle, he sent a bullet among them, 
with a force sufficient to do execution even at the 
distance at which he stood. 

“Now let us depart!” exclaimed Dr. Bat, endeav- 
oring to catch a furtive glimpse of the lead, which 
he fancied whizzing at his very ear; “we have 
maintained the bank in a gallant manner for a 
sufficient length of time. 

The old man cast a look behind him, and seeing 
that the horsemen had reached the cover of the hill, 
he made no objections to the proposal. Soon all 
the fugitives were again assembled. 

The trapper now looked about him for some 

19 


2 9 o LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


convenient spot where the whole party might halt, 
as he expressed it, for some five or six hours. The 
trapper showed them that they must hide until 
night and not journey, as their route could easily 
be discovered in the daylight. 

Inez and Ellen were quickly bestowed beneath 
the warm and not uncomfortable shelter of the 
buffalo skins, which formed a thick covering, and 
tall grass was drawn over the place in such a 
manner as to evade any examination from a com- 
mon eye. Paul and the Pawnee fettered the beasts 
and cast them to the earth, where, after supplying 
them with food, they were also left concealed in 
the fog of the prairie. No time was lost when these 
several arrangements were completed before each 
of the others sought a place of rest and conceal- 
ment and then the plain appeared again deserted 
in its solitude. 

The old man had advised his companions of the 
absolute necessity of their continuing for hours in 
this concealment. All their hopes of escape de- 
pended on the success of the plan. If they might 
elude the cunning of their pursuers by this simple 
and therefore less suspected expedient, they could 
renew their flight as the evening approached, and, 
by changing their course, the chance of final 
success would be greatly increased. Influenced 
by these momentous considerations, the whole 
party lay musing on their situation until thoughts 
grew weary, and sleep finally settled on them all, 
one after another. 

The deepest silence had prevailed for hours, 


THE PRAIRIE 


291 


when the quick ears of the trapper and the Pawnee 
were startled by a faint cry of surprise from Inez. 
Springing to their feet, they found the vast plain, 
the rolling swells, the little hillock, and the scat- 
tered thickets, covered alike in one white, dazzling 
sheet of snow. 

“The Lord have mercy on ye all ! exclaimed 
the old man, regarding the prospect with a rueful 
eye. “It is too late; it is too late! A squirrel 
would leave his trail on this light coating of the 
’arth. Ha! there comes the imps to a certainty. 
Down with ye all, down with ye; your chance is 
but small, and yet it must not be wilfully cast 
away. ” 

The whole party was instantly concealed again, 
though many an anxious and stolen glance was 
directed through the tops of the grass on the move- 
ments of their enemies. At the distance of half a 
mile the Sioux band was seen riding in a circuit, 
which was gradually contracting itself, and evi- 
dently closing upon the very spot where the fugi- 
tives lay. There was but little difficulty in solving 
the mystery of this movement. The snow had 
fallen in time to assure them that those they sought 
were in the rear, and they were now employed, 
with the unwearied perseverance and patience of 
Indian warriors, in circling the certain boundaries 
of their place of concealment. 

Each minute added to the danger of the fugi- 
tives. Mahtoree came at length within fifty feet 
of them. 

“Enough,” said the old man, rising with dig- 


292 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


nity; “Now let us meet our fates like men. Cring- 
ing and complaining find no favor in Indian eyes. ” 

His appearance was greeted by a yell that spread 
far and wide over the plain, and in a moment a 
hundred savages were seen riding madly to the 
spot. Mahtoree received his prisoners with great 
self-restraint, though a single gleam of fierce joy 
broke through his clouded brow. 

The exultation of receiving the white captives 
was so great as for a time to throw the dark and 
immovable form of their young Indian companion 
entirely out of view. But when a little time had 
passed, even this secondary object attracted the 
attention of the Dacotahs. Then it was that the 
trapper first learned, by the shout of triumph and 
long-drawn yell of delight which burst at once from 
a hundred throats, as well as by the terrible name 
which filled the air, that his youthful friend was no 
other than a redoubtable and hitherto invincible 
warrior, the open and dreaded foeman of the 
Dacotahs — the Pawnee chieftain, Hard Heart. 

You will remember that Mahtoree, the Dacotah, 
had peeped into the tent in which the squatter had 
imprisoned Inez. Now that the chief had her in 
his power he wished her for his own wife. 

But the trapper by his wise and shrewd ways 
kept the chief from taking Inez away from the other 
captives, and the attention of the Indians was 
directed especially toward the torture of the cap- 
tive Pawnee. 

Weucha, the wily Sioux, who had long stood 
watching the countenance of the chief, bounded 


THE PRAIRIE 


293 


forward at the signal like a bloodhound loosened 
from the leash. Forcing his way into the center of 
the old squaws, who were already proceeding from 
abuse to violence, he reproved their impatience, 
and bade them wait until a warrior had begun to 
torment, and then they should see their victim shed 
tears like a woman. 

The heartless savage commenced his efforts by 
flourishing his tomahawk about the head of the 
captive, in such a manner as to give reason to sup- 
pose that each blow would bury the weapon in the 
flesh, while it was so governed as not to touch the 
skin. To this customary expedient Hard Heart 
was perfectly insensible. His eye kept the same_ 
steady, riveted look on the air, though the glitter- 
ing ax described in its movements a bright circle 
of light before his countenance. Frustrated in this 
attempt, the callous Sioux laid the cold edge on 
the naked head of his victim, and began to describe 
the different manners in which a prisoner might 
be flayed. 

“Hard Heart !” shouted the Sioux, turning in 
his fury and aiming a deadly blow at the head of 
his victim. His weapon fell into the hollow of the 
captive’s hand. For a single moment the two 
stood, as if entranced, in that attitude, the one 
paralyzed by so unexpected a resistance, and the 
other bending his head, not to meet his death, but 
in the act of the most intense attention. The 
women screamed with triumph, for they thought 
the nerves of the captive had at length failed him. 
The trapper trembled for his friend; and Hector, 


294 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

as if conscious of what was passing, raised his nose 
in the air and uttered a piteous howl. 

But the Pawnee hesitated only for that moment. 
Raising the other hand like lightning, the toma- 
hawk flashed in the air, and Weucha sank at his 
feet, brained to the eye. Then cutting a way with 
the bloody weapon, he darted through the opening 
left by the frightened women, and seemed to de- 
scend the declivity at a single bound. 

Had a bolt from heaven fallen in the midst of the 
Dacotah band it would not have occasioned 
greater terror than this act of desperate hardihood. 
A shrill, plaintive cry burst from the lips of all the 
women, and there was a moment when even the 
oldest warriors appeared to have lost their faculties. 
This stupor endured only for the instant. It was 
succeeded by a yell of revenge that burst from a 
hundred throats, while as many warriors started 
forward at the cry, bent on the most bloody re- 
venge. But a powerful and authoritative call from 
Mahtoree arrested every foot. The chief, in whose 
countenance disappointment and rage were strug- 
gling, with the affected composure of his nation, ex- 
tended an arm toward the river, and the whole 
mystery was explained. 

Hard Heart had already crossed half the bottom 
which lay between the hill and the water. At this 
precise moment a band of armed and mounted 
Pawnees turned a swell, and galloped to the margin 
of the stream, into which the plunge of the fugitive 
was distinctly heard. A few minutes sufficed for 
his vigorous arm to conquer the passage, and then 


THE PRAIRIE 


295 


the shout from the opposite shore told the humbled 
Dacotahs the whole extent of the triumph of their 
adversaries. 

Then the surprised Dacotahs, gathering quickly, 
prepared for the battle. But it became a single 
combat between the two chiefs. For when Hard 
Heart had joined his tribesmen and was again 
armed for the fight, he challenged Mahtoree to 
single combat upon an island in the river and in 
full view of both parties. The battle between them 
was long uncertain, but in the end Mahtoree was 
slain. 

In the meantime the sands became a scene of 
bloodshed and violence. Better mounted and 
perhaps more ardent, the Pawnees had, however, 
reached the spot in sufficient numbers to force their 
enemies to retire. The visitors pushed their suc- 
cess to the opposite shore, and gained the solid 
ground in the confused mass of the fight. Here 
they were met by all the unmounted Dacotahs, 
and, in their turn, they were forced to give way. 

In this manner the contest continued with varied 
success, and without much loss. The Sioux had 
succeeded in forcing themselves into a thick growth 
of rank grass, where the horses of their enemies 
could not enter, or where, when entered, they were 
worse than useless. It became necessary to dis- 
lodge the Dacotahs from this cover, or the object 
of the combat must be abandoned. Several 
desperate efforts had been repulsed, and the dis- 
heartened Pawnees were beginning to think of a 
retreat, when the well-known war-cry of Hard 


296 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


Heart was heard at hand, and the next instant the 
chief appeared in their center, flourishing the scalp 
of the great Sioux, as a banner that would lead to 
victory. 

He was greeted by a shout of delight, and fol- 
lowed into the cover with an impetuosity that for 
the moment drove all before it. But the bloody 
trophy in the hand of the chief served as an incen- 
tive to the attacked as well as to the assailants. 
Mahtoree had left many a daring brave behind him 
in his band who now exhibited the most generous 
self-devotion in order to wrest the memorial of 
their chief from the hands of the avowed enemies 
of their people. 

The result was in favor of numbers. After a 
severe struggle, in which the finest displays of per- 
sonal daring were exhibited by all the chiefs, the 
Pawnees were compelled to retire upon the open 
bottom, closely pressed by the Sioux, who failed 
not to seize each foot of ground yielded by their 
enemies. 

The fate of Hard Heart and his companions, 
would have been quickly sealed but for a powerful 
and unlooked-for interposition in their favor. A 
shout was heard from a little brake on the left, and 
a volley from the fatal Western rifle immediately 
succeeded. Some five or six Sioux leaped forward 
in the death agony, and every arm among them 
was as suddenly suspended as if the lightning had 
flashed from the clouds to aid the cause of the 
Loups. Then came Ishmael and his stout sons 
in open view, bearing down upon their late treach- 


THE PRAIRIE 


297 


erous allies with looks and voices that proclaimed 
the character of the help. 

The shock was too much for the fortitude of the 
Dacotahs. Several of their bravest chiefs had 
already fallen, and those that remained were 
instantly abandoned by the whole of the inferior 
herd. A few of the most desperate braves still 
lingered nigh, and there nobly met their deaths, 
under the blows of the re-encouraged Pawnees. 
A second discharge from the rifles of the squatter 
and his party completed the victory. 

The knife and the lance cut short the retreat of 
the larger portion of the vanquished. The sun 
had long sunk behind the rolling outline of the 
western horizon before that disastrous defeat was 
entirely ended. 

The battle was over; but Ishmael, because of his 
assistance, claimed the captives of the Sioux — Ellen, 
his niece, Inez, his captive, and the old trapper, 
who, he believed, had murdered Asa, his son. 

“ I am called upon this day,” said he, “to fill the 
office which in the settlements you give unto judges, 
who are set apart to decide on matters that arise 
between man and man. Therefore it ar* a solemn 
fact that this day shall I give unto all and each 
that which is his due and no more. ” 

When Ishmael had delivered his mind thus far, 
he paused and looked about him, as if he would 
trace the effects in the faces of his hearers. When 
his eye met that of Middleton, he was answered by 
the latter: 

“If the evil-doer is to be punished, and he that 


298 LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


has offended none to be left to go at large, you must 
change situations with me, and become a prisoner 
instead of a judge.” 

“You mean to say that I have done you wrong 
in taking the lady from her father’s house, and lead- 
ing her so far against her will into these wild dis- 
tricts,” returned the unmoved squatter. “I shall 
not put the lie on the back of an evil deed, and deny 
your words. I have mainly concluded that it was 
a mistake to take a child from its parent, and the 
lady shall be returned whence she has been brought, 
as tenderly and as safely as man can do it. ” 

“The matter is settled between us,” he con- 
tinued, turning to Middleton; “you and your 
wife are free to go and come, when and how you 
please. Abner, set the captain at liberty. ” 

“I will never forget your honesty, however slow 
it has been in showing itself,” cried Middleton, 
hastening to the side of the weeping Inez the instant 
he was released; “and, friend, I pledge you the 
honor of a soldier that your own part of this trans- 
action shall be forgotten. ” 

The dull smile with which the squatter answered 
to this assurance, proved how little he valued the 
pledge that the youth, in the first excitement of his 
feelings, was so free to make. 

“And now, young man; you who have so often 
come into my clearing under the pretense of lining 
the bee into his hole,” resumed Ishmael, after a 
momentary pause, as if to recover the balance of 
his mind, “with you there is a heavier account to 
settle. Not satisfied with rummaging my camp, 


THE PRAIRIE 


299 


you have stolen a girl who is akin to my wife, and 
who I had calculated to make one day a daughter 
of my own. ” 

All the young men bent their curious eyes on Paul 
and Ellen, the former of whom seemed in no small 
mental confusion, while the latter bent her face 
on her bosom in shame. 

“Harkee, friend Ishmael Bush,” returned the 
bee-hunter, who found that he was expected to 
answer to the charge of robbery as well as to that 
of kidnapping; “that I did not give the most civil 
treatment to your pots and pails I am not going 
to gainsay. If you will name the price you put 
upon the articles, it is possible the damage may be 
quietly settled between us, and all hard feelings 
forgotten. As to the matter of Ellen Wade here, 
it may not be got over so easily. I think that 
where a young woman’s mind is fairly bent on 
going in a certain direction, it will be quite as pru- 
dent to let her body follow. 

“Nelly,” resumed -the squatter, who paid very 
little attention to what Paul had said, “Nelly, 
this is a wide and a wicked world on which you 
have been in such a hurry to cast yourself. You 
have fed and you have slept in my camp for a 
year, and I did hope that you had found the free 
air of the borders enough to your mind to wish to 
remain among us.” 

“Let the girl have her will,” muttered Esther 
from the rear; “he who might have persuaded her 
to stay is sleeping in the cold and naked prairie, 
and little hope is left of changing her humor.” 


3 oo LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 

“I am not about to set myself up as a ruler of 
inclinations/’ observed the squatter. “If the 
heart of the child is truly in the settlements, let her 
declare it; she shall have no hindrance from me. 
Speak, Nelly, and let what you say come from your 
wishes, without fear or favor. Would you leave 
us to go with this young man into the settled coun- 
tries, or will you tarry and share the little we have 
to give, but which to you we give so freely ?” 

Thus called upon to decide, Ellen could no 
longer hesitate. The glance of her eye was at 
first timid and fearful. But as the color flushed 
her features, and her breathing became quick and 
excited, it was apparent that the native spirit of the 
girl was gaining the ascendency over the bashful- 
ness of sex. 

“You took me a fatherless, poverty-stricken, and 
friendless orphan,” she said, struggling to com- 
mand her voice, “when others, who live in what 
may be called riches compared to your state, chose 
to forget me; and may Heaven in its goodness 
bless you for it! The little I have done will never 
pay you for that one act of kindness. I like not 
your manner of life; it is different from the ways 
of my childhood, and it is different from my wishes; 
still, had you not led this sweet and unoffending 
lady from her friends, I should never have quitted 
you until you yourself had said, ‘Go, and the bless- 
ing of God go with you!” 

“I have promised the lady,” said Ellen, drop- 
ping her eyes again to the earth, “not to leave her; 
and after she has received so much wrong from our 


THE PRAIRIE 


3 01 

hands, she may have a right to claim that I keep my 
word.” 

“Take the cords from the young man,” said 
Ishmael. When the order was obeyed, he mo- 
tioned for all his sons to advance, and he placed 
them in a row before the eyes of Ellen. “Now, let 
there be no trifling, but open your heart. Here 
ar’ all I have to offer besides a hearty welcome.” 

The distressed girl turned her abashed look from 
the countenance of one of the young men to that 
of another until her eye met the troubled and work- 
ing features of Paul. Then nature got the better of 
forms. She threw herself into the arms of the bee- 
hunter, and sufficiently proclaimed her choice by 
sobbing aloud. Ishmael signed to his sons to 
fall back, and, evidently displeased, though 
perhaps not disappointed by the result, he no 
longer hesitated. 

“Take her,” he said, “and deal honestly and 
kindly by her. The girl has that in her which 
should make her welcome in any man’s house, 
and I should be loth to hear she ever came to 
harm.” 

And when he learned, too, that not the old 
trapper but his own brother-in-law, Abram White, 
was the murderer of Asa, Ishmael released the old 
man and worked his revenge on the criminal 
Abram. 

Released thus from all their troubles, the cap- 
tives went with Hard Heart and the friendly Paw- 
nees to their distant village. 

Then, with words of friendship and of farewell, 


3°2 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


they left Hard Heart and his band. The soldiers 
of Captain Middleton joined him, and the white 
travelers embarked to go down the river. 

“They are a valiant and an honest tribe,” said 
the old trapper, as he looked back at his Pawnee 
friends; “that will I say boldly in their favor; and 
second only do I take them to be to that once 
mighty but now scattered people, the Delawares 
of the Hills. Ah’s me, Captain, if you had seen 
as much good and evil as I have seen in these 
nations of redskins you would know of how much 
value was a brave and simple-minded warrior. I 
know that some are to be found who both think 
and say that an Indian is but little better than the 
beasts of these naked plains. But it is needful 
to be honest in one’s self to be a fitting judge of 
honesty in others. 

“Now, friend steersman, just give the boat a 
sheer toward yonder low sandy point, and a favor 
will be granted at a short asking.” 

The steersman did so, and then, much against 
the wishes of the rest, the old trapper parted from 
them. 

The old man whistled his dogs to the land, and 
then he proceeded to the final adieux. Little was 
said on either side. The trapper took each person 
solemnly by the hand, and uttered something 
friendly and kind to all. Middleton was perfectly 
speechless, and was driven to make believe busying 
himself among the baggage. Paul whistled with 
all his might, and even Dr. Bat took his leave with 
an effort that bore the appearance of desperate 


THE PRAIRIE 


303 


resolution. When he had made the circuit of the 
whole, the old trapper with his own hands shoved 
the boat into the current, wishing God to speed 
them. Not a word was spoken, nor a stroke of the 
oar given, until the travelers had floated past a 
knoll that hid the trapper from their view. He 
was last seen standing on the low point, leaning 
on his rifle, with Hector crouched at his feet and the 
younger dog frisking along the sands in the play- 
fulness of youth and vigor. 

The very next year Captain Middleton was 
again called to the West by his military duties. 

These concluded, he and Paul Hover deter- 
mined to cross the country to visit the Pawnee, 
Hard Heart, and to inquire into the fate of his 
friend the trapper. When within a proper dis- 
tance, he dispatched an Indian runner belonging 
to a friendly tribe to announce the approach of 
himself and party, continuing his route at a delib- 
erate pace in order that the news might, as was 
customary, precede his arrival. The sun was 
beginning to fall, and a sheet of goldeji light was 
spread over the placid plain, lending to its even 
surface. Suddenly Paul said; “See! we are not 
altogether slighted, for here comes a party at last 
to meet us, though it is a little pitiful as to show 
and numbers.” 

A group of horsemen were at length seen wheel- 
ing around a little copse and advancing across the 
plain directly toward them. The advance of this 
party was slow and dignified. As it drew nigh, 
the chieftain of the Pawnees was seen at its head, 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


3°4 

followed by a dozen younger warriors of his tribe. 
They were all unarmed, nor did they even wear 
any of those ornaments or feathers which are 
considered testimonials of respect to the guest an 
Indian receives, as well as evidence of his own 
importance. 

The meeting was friendly, and soon, in silence, 
they entered the town. Its inhabitants were seen 
collected in an open space, where they were ar- 
ranged with the customary deference to age and 
rank. The whole formed a large circle, in the 
center of which were perhaps a dozen of the princi- 
pal chiefs. Hard Heart waved his hand as he 
approached, and, as the mass of bodies opened, 
he rode through, followed by his companions. 
Here they dismounted; and as the beasts were led 
apart, the strangers found themselves surrounded 
by a thousand grave, composed, but solicitous faces. 

Middleton gazed about him in growing concern, 
for no cry, no song, no shout, welcomed him 
among a people from whom he had so lately 
parted with regret. But there was no symptom 
of hostility on the part of their hosts. Hard Heart 
beckoned for Middleton and Paul to follow, lead- 
ing the way toward the cluster of forms that oc- 
cupied the center of the circle. Here the visitors 
found the cause of all this silence and ceremony — 
the old trapper was dying. 

He was placed on a rude seat, which had been 
made with studied care to support his frame 
in an upright and easy attitude. His eye was 
glazed, and apparently as devoid of sight as of 


THE PRAIRIE 


3°5 

expression. His features were a little more 
sunken and strongly marked than formerly; but 
there all change, so far as exterior was concerned, 
might be said to have ceased. His approaching 
end was not to be ascribed to any positive disease, 
but had been a gradual and mild sinking away. 

His body was placed so as to let the light of the 
setting sun fall full upon the solemn features. His 
head was bare, the long, thin locks of gray flutter- 
ing lightly in the evening breeze. His rifle lay 
upon his knee, and the other weapons of the chase 
were placed at his side, within reach of his hand. 
Between his feet lay the figure of a hound, with its 
head crouching to the earth, as if it slumbered; 
and so perfectly easy and natural was its position 
that a second glance was necessary to tell Middle- 
ton he saw only the skin of Hector, stuffed, by 
Indian tenderness and ingenuity, in a manner to 
represent the living animal. The younger dog 
was playing at a distance. Near at hand stood 
the wife of Hard Heart, holding in her arms a 
little child. The rest of those immediately in the 
center were aged men, who had apparently drawn 
near in order to observe the manner in which a 
just and fearless warrior would depart on the 
greatest of his journeys. 

The old trapper was reaping the reward of a life 
remarkable for temperance and activity, in a tran- 
quil and placid death. His vigor in a manner en- 
dured to the very last. He had hunted with the 
tribe in the spring, and even throughout most of 
the summer, when his limbs suddenly refused to 


20 


3 o6 leatherstocking tales 

perform their customary offices. A sympathizing 
weakness took possession of all his powers of 
mind, and the Pawnees believed that they were 
going to lose, in this unexpected manner, a sage 
and counselor whom they had begun both to love 
and respect. 

When he had placed his guests in front of the 
dying man, Hard Heart, after a pause leaned a 
little forward and demanded: 

“Does my father hear the words of his son ?” 

“Speak,” returned the trapper, in tones that 
issued from his chest, but which were rendered 
awfully distinct by the stillness that reigned in the 
place. “I am about to depart from the village of 
the Pawnees, and shortly shall be beyond the reach 
of your voice.” 

“See, here is a friend,” said the chief, beckoning 
to Middleton to approach. Middleton took one 
of the thin hands of the trapper, and struggling to 
command his voice, he succeeded in announcing 
his presence. 

The old man listened like one whose thoughts 
were dwelling on a very different subject; but, 
when the other had succeeded in making him 
understand that he was present, an expression of 
joyful recognition passed over his faded features. 

“I hope you have not so soon forgotten those 
whom you so greatly served,” said Middleton. 
“It would pain me to think my hold on your mem- 
ory was so light, ” 

“Little that I have ever seen is forgotten,” re- 
turned the trapper: “I am at the close of many 


THE PRAIRIE 


3°7 


weary days, but there is not one among them all I 
could wish to overlook. I remember you, with the 
whole of your company; ay, and your gran'ther, 
that went before you. I am glad that you have 
come back upon these plains, for I had need of one 
who speaks English, since little faith can be put in 
the traders of these regions. Will you do a favor 
to an old and dying man ?” 

“Name it,” said Middleton; “it shall be done.” 

“It is a far journey to send such trifles,” re- 
sumed the old man, who spoke at short intervals, 
as strength and breath permitted; “afar and 
weary journey is the same; but kindnesses and 
friendships are things not to be forgotten. There 
is a settlement among the Ostego hills — ” 

“I know the place,” interrupted Middleton, 
observing that he spoke with increasing difficulty; 
“proceed to tell me what you would have done.” 

“Take this rifle, pouch, and horn, and send them 
to the person whose name is graven on the plates 
of the stock, — a trader cut the letters with his 
knife, — for it is long that I have intended to send 
him such a token of my love!” 

“It shall be so. Is there more that you could 
wish ?” 

“ Little else have I to bestow. My traps I give 
to Hard Heart, my Indian son; for honestly and 
kindly has he kept his faith. Let him stand before 

a 

me. 

Middleton explained to the chief what the trap- 
per had said, and relinquished his own place to the 
other. 


3 o8 leatherstocking tales 

“ Pawnee,” continued the old man, always 
changing his language to suit the person he ad- 
dressed, and not infrequently according to the 
ideas he expressed, “it is a custom of my people 
for the father to leave his blessing with the son 
before he shuts his eyes forever. This blessing I 
give to you; take it, for the prayers of a Christian 
man will never make the path of a just warrior to 
the blessed prairies either longer or more tangled. 
May the God of a white man look on your deeds 
with friendly eyes, and may you never commit an 
act that shall cause Him to darken His face. I 
know not whether we shall ever meet again. 
You believe in the blessed prairies, and I have 
faith in the sayings of my fathers. If it should 
prove that the same meaning is hid under different 
words, we shall yet stand together, Pawnee, before 
the face of your Great Spirit, who will then be no 
other than my God. 

The old man made a long and apparently a 
thoughtful pause. At times he raised his eyes 
wistfully, as if he would again address Middleton, 
but some innate feeling appeared always to sup- 
press his words. The other, who observed his 
hesitation, inquired, in a way most likely to en- 
courage him to proceed, whether there was aught 
else that he could wish to have done. 

“I am without kith or kin in the wide world,” 
the trapper answered; “when I am gone there 
will be an end of my race. We have never been 
chiefs; but honest, and useful in our way I hope 
it can not be denied, we have always proved our- 


THE PRAIRIE 


309 

selves. My father lies buried near the sea, and the 
bones of his son will whiten on the prairies — ” 

“Name the spot, and your remains shall be 
placed by the side of your father, ” interrupted 
Middleton. 

“Not so, not so, Captain. Let me sleep where 
I have lived — beyond the din of the settlements! 
Still I see no need why the grave of an honest man 
should be hid, like a redskin in his ambushment. 
I paid a man in the settlements to make and put 
a graven stone at the head of my father’s resting- 
place. It was of the value of twelve beaver-skins, 
and cunningly and curiously was it carved. Then 
it told to all comers that the body of a Christian 
lay beneath; and it spoke of his manner of life, of 
his years, and of his honesty. When we had done 
with the Frenchers in the old war I made a journey 
to the spot, in order to see that all was rightly per- 
formed, and glad I am to say, the workman had 
not forgotten his faith.” 

“And such a stone you would have at your 
grave!” 

“I? No, no; I have no son but Hard Heart, 
and it is little that an Indian knows of white fash- 
ions and usages. Besides, I am his debtor 
already, seeing it is so little I have done since I 
have lived in his tribe. The rifle might bring the 
value of such a thing — but then I know it will give 
the boy pleasure to hang the piece in his hall, for 
many is the deer and the bird that he has seen it 
destroy. No, no; the gun must be sent to him 
whose name is graven on the stock. ” 


3 10 


LEATHERSTOCKING TALES 


“But there is one who would gladly prove his 
affection in the way you wish; he owes you not 
only his own deliverance from so many dangers, 
but who inherits a heavy debt of gratitude from 
his ancestors. The stone shall be put at the head 
of your grave. ” 

The old man extended his wasted hand, and 
gave the other a squeeze of thanks. 

“I thought you might be willing to do it, but 
I was backward in asking the favor,” he said, 
“ seeing that you are not of my kin. Put no boastful 
words on the same, but just the name, the age, and 
the time of the death, with something from the 
Holy Book; no more, no more. My name will 
then not be altogether lost on ’arth; I need no 
more. ” 

Middleton intimated his assent, and then fol- 
lowed a pause that was broken only by distant and 
broken sentences from the dying man. He ap- 
peared now to have closed his accounts with the 
world, and to wait merely for the final summons 
to quit it. Middleton and Hard Heart placed 
themselves on the opposite sides of his seat, and 
watched with melancholy anxiety the changes of 
his countenance. For two hours there was na 
very sensible alteration. The expression of his 
faded and time-worn features was that of a calm 
and dignified repose. Then he turned quietly, 
gave one last look at the glorious sunset across the 
prairies, half-raised himself, and dropped back. 
When Middleton and Hard Heart, each of whom 
had involuntarily extended a hand to support the 


THE PRAIRIE 


3 11 


form of the old man, turned to him again they 
found that the subject of their interest was removed 
forever beyond the necessity of their care. They 
mournfully placed the body in its seat, and the 
oldest chief of the Pawnees arose to announce the 
end of the scene to the tribe. The voice of the old 
Indian seemed a sort of echo from that invisible 
world to which the meek spirit of the trapper had 
just departed. 

“ A valiant, a just, and a wise warrior, has gone 
on the path which will lead him to the blessed 
grounds of his people!” he said. “When the 
voice of the Great Spirit called him, he was ready 
to answer. Go, my children; remember the just 
chief of the palefaces, and clear your own tracks 
from briers!” 

The grave was made beneath the shade of some 
noble oaks. It was long and carefully watched 
by the Pawnees of the Loups, and was often shown 
to the traveler and the trader as a spot where a 
just white man slept. In due time the stone was 
placed at its head, with the simple inscription 
which the trapper had himself requested. The 
only liberty taken by Middleton was to add : “ May 
no wanton hand ever disturb his remains.” 



OCT 3 1906 
















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































\ 




* 

















































































